


Free Space

by hannigramcracker, TimmyJaybird



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Cunnilingus, Fluff, FtM Dick, Humor, M/M, Some angst, Trans Character, Vaginal Sex, bingo au, you think we're kidding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-03
Updated: 2017-05-03
Packaged: 2018-10-27 18:44:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10814601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannigramcracker/pseuds/hannigramcracker, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimmyJaybird/pseuds/TimmyJaybird
Summary: Slade knows that Dick worries when he goes down to the Iceberg Lounge every Thursday night for cards- but what's the worst that could happen?Well, his boyfriend's fears could be proven right and he could be forced to give up his single night of escape for a moreage appropriateactivity.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> TJB: Listen neither of us know how we turned a bingo au into such a huge fic, but don't be shocked if more pops up in this verse.

“Slade, please?” Dick asked, somewhere between annoyed and pleading. 

 

Slade grunted out a sort of huff as he buttoned up the shirt he was putting on. “Dick, come on. I let you go pursue your interests with your friends.” 

 

“My  _ interests  _ don’t involve gambling large sums of money with heavily armed men.” Dick leaned in the doorway and crossed his arms. 

 

“Is it the  _ men  _ that bother you? Because, I swear I only have eyes for you little bird.” 

 

Slade crowded Dick in the doorway and boxed him in with his broad shoulders. He leaned forward and kissed Dick full on the mouth, messily sliding his tongue between his lips. 

 

_ “Eye,”  _ Dick corrected when Slade broke away, cracking a grin. “I wish you’d just go out and play bingo like every other person your age.” 

 

“Richard Grayson, I am  _ not  _ that old.” Slade remarked as he passed through the door and Dick followed him out into their apartment. 

 

He watched Slade as he laced up the boots he was wearing and sighed. “Just...be careful, okay?” 

 

Slade waited to answer until he straightened up again. He placed a hand on the small of Dick’s back and pulled him into his chest. “I will be, baby. I promise. Nothing’s gonna happen.” 

 

“I can’t help but worry. I’ve put a lotta those guys behind bars before and I don’t want them to take anything out on you because of it.” 

 

“I swear they won’t. I go in, I have a bit of whiskey and play cards. And I play  _ clean.”  _ Slade stepped back and began to put his jacket on. Dick admired the way it hung across his shoulders. 

 

“That doesn’t mean everyone else does.” Dick mumbled before kissing Slade on the cheek. “I’m here if you need anything, okay?” 

 

Slade nodded and opened the apartment door. “I’ll be fine, little bird. You don’t have to worry.” 

 

*

 

Dick  _ did  _ have to worry, it turned out. 

 

Slade walked into the Iceberg Lounge just like any other Thursday night when he wasn’t on the job. He was greeted by the bouncer and got served a tumbler of whiskey at the bar with almost no wait. He sat down after that and sipped, savoring the smoke in the taste. He waited for a game to begin and as people started to gather around him at the table, he lit a cigarette and took a few leisurely puffs. 

 

He was a few games in and just starting to relax. He had just sat back down from getting a second drink when suddenly there was a burst of commotion behind him. 

 

“That’s him! That’s the guy!” 

 

Slade heard the clatter of a chair being thrown into a table and the dissonance of glasses shattering before he could turn around. When he did, he was faced with five large men, one of whom was clapping his fist into his other hand almost comically. Slade would have laughed, probably, if the other four weren’t pointing several guns in his direction. 

 

“I’m not-” Slade started but was cut off with a fist to his jaw. “ _ Okay _ ,” Slade mumbled to himself while he straightened from the shock of the blow. The people who had been at his table had all backed away now, a circle was starting to form around the altercation, and Slade still didn’t know what he had done to make these men upset. 

 

“Don’t say another word, pal.” The man with nothing but his fists remarked. 

 

Slade knew he could best these guys, easily, but he didn’t want to aggravate a situation that seemed bad enough already. He didn’t need to go to jail tonight. He already wasn’t going to hear the end of it over the bruise that was no doubt already beginning to blossom on his jaw. Instead of retaliating, Slade held both of his hands up and tried to take a step back, away from the angry group. 

 

Doing so was a mistake. 

 

Before Slade had even taken a full step back, one of the guns had gone off and a piercing pain shot up Slade’s calf. There were screeches and screams around him as members of the crowd started to run away from the gunshot.  _ Like they’ve never heard one before -  _ Slade thought. But it provided him with enough commotion to escape into, despite the trail of bloody footprints he was leaving behind. 

 

Once he was outside of the building, he slipped into the shadows comfortably and moved a few blocks away before sliding down an alley wall and rolling up his torn pant leg. He grunted slightly as some of the fabric stuck in the wound. Even in the dim light of the alleyway, Slade could tell that the injury was minor. It was a clean shot and had missed all the important things in his leg. All he had to do was take out the bullet, and it would be healed by the morning. Despite that, Slade knew he couldn’t walk home like this and he doubted any cab driver would be pleased to have him bleed in the backseat. 

 

He was going to have to call Dick.

 

And he was going to have to sleep on the couch tonight. 

 

Slade pressed his phone up against his ear and listened to it ring twice before Dick picked up.

 

“Slade?” 

 

“Dick, hey, uh…” 

 

“What’s wrong? You sound off.” 

 

“Yeah, uh. I need you to come pick me up.” 

 

“Is everything okay?” Dick’s voice was raised just slightly in panic. 

 

“I’m in an alley off the corner of Fourteenth. I, um...got shot at?” 

 

“I’ll be right there.” Dick said and Slade heard the door of their apartment close through the phone.

 

Dick stayed on the phone while he drove, but he stayed silent. Slade kept quiet as well, wanting to speak but not knowing what he could say to help things, to make Dick less upset with him. Slade listened to the car running, listened to Dick breathing, until a small “I’m here” crackled over the line. 

 

Slade stood and limped his way out of the alley and into the car. The wound wasn’t bad, but it hurt like hell. He was glad he decided to call Dick instead of being stubborn and walking. He really didn’t want to fight with Dick over this, and he knew that Dick’s worries could no longer be explained away as irrational. Not that Slade ever really did think weren’t rational, he knew that Dick did have a point, but he had been so sure that he would have been able to see any danger coming. 

 

“I’m sorry.” Slade offered when the silence in the car became too tense. 

  
“You don’t need to apologize. Is it bad?” Dick asked and Slade knew that he was asking about the gunshot. 

 

“No, it’ll be fine by tomorrow.” Slade answered, wincing when the car turned and his weight shifted onto it. 

 

The silence continued to stretch, until Dick put the car into park outside of their apartment. 

 

“Dick, look-” 

 

“Slade, I don’t think we should talk about this right now.” Dick cut him off and unbuckled his seatbelt. 

 

Slade huffed a breath and unbuckled his own. He knew what he was going to have to do in order to avoid a fight with Dick. Resigned, he reached out to stop Dick from getting out of the car just yet. “I’ll go to bingo next week.” 

 

Dick narrowed his eyes. “Swear?” 

 

“Yes.” Slade answered. 

 

It would suck, and it was kind of humiliating, but he could do this one embarrassing thing just one time if it meant not getting into a fight. If it meant he would be able to sleep in his own bed tonight, and have Dick help tend his wound, he would. 

 

*

 

“You can’t wear that,” Dick said, as Slade lifted up his leather jacket. Slade frowned, glanced down at himself. He was dressed as he was  _ every _ Thursday evening, when he went out for cards.

 

Even if now the destination- and game- were different.

 

“What’s wrong with how I’m dressed?” Slade held his arms out, and Dick clicked his tongue, beckoning him over with a curl of his fingers. Slade huffed, walked over as he  _ always did _ when Dick did that, and Dick took his jacket, tossed it over by the bed. He reached out, pressed his hands flat to Slade’s chest, studied the low v-neck of his shirt, the dusting of chest hair it showed.

 

“You look too…” Dick paused to think, “ _ fearsome _ .”

 

“It’s a  _ tshirt _ ,” Slade countered, but Dick was- sadly- pulling his hands away, heading for the dresser. He pulled open one of Slade’s drawers, rummaging around before he turned, holding out a folded shirt. Slade took one look at it, before he shook his head. “No,  _ no _ .”

 

“C’mon babe,” Dick said, cocking his hip. Slade saw a sliver of dark skin where his tshirt had ridden up, over the waist of his skinny jeans. “You’re going to be surrounded by old ladies, you can’t look like you’re ready to play  _ Russian Roulette _ .”

 

Slade huffed, before he grasped his tshirt. He pulled it up, over his shirt, tossed it dramatically at Dick. It caught on his shoulder, and he took the light blue polo, pulling it on. The fabric was a little heavier, not quite as soft, and he felt like he belonged at some damn  _ country club _ in it.

 

He needed a drink already, and he hadn’t even left.

 

He smoothed the shirt down, and Dick moved to the closet, pulled out a different jacket. When he offered it Slade took it without a word, shrugging it on. “Leather really isn’t fitting,” Dick pointed out, taking Slade’s arm and giving it a squeeze, before he turned his boyfriend towards the bedroom door.

 

“I’m still wearing my boots,” Slade pointed out, “if you put me in loafers I’ll just shoot myself dead.”

 

Dick huffed, but gave this one small inch.

 

*

 

“I’ll pick you up at eight,” Dick said, as Slade stared out the window at the  _ church _ . Of all places this had to be held at- as if it wasn’t bad enough. Slade wasn’t much of a believer in anything- although he did have a healthy  _ respect _ for Dick’s ways at home. “Behave, okay?”

 

“What am I going to do?” Slade asked, dragging his eyes over to his boyfriend, “there’s no way to get into trouble  _ here _ .”

 

Dick flashed a grin. “You never know- nice old ladies are always secretly  _ feisty _ .” He leaned over, pecked Slade’s cheek. Slade waited until Dick pulled away, before he opened the car door, stepping out. He took a deep breath, before he headed up the steps towards the large front doors, wondering if maybe a strike of lightning could just end it all, right then and there.

 

But sadly none came, and he was forced to open the old, heavy wooden doors, stepping inside. He glanced around, noticed a large hand painted sign, advertising  _ Bingo _ downstairs. A heavy sigh, and Slade turned towards it, heading for the staircase. They opened to a large room, scuffed tiles and too many fold out tables.

 

There was a younger girl standing just past the stairs, handing a board to an old man in a  _ tweed jacket _ after he handed her a five. Slade took a breath, contemplated just turning around. Dick wouldn’t know if he chose to just take a walk around the city instead- if he popped into a bar and drank this embarrassment away.

 

Except he would because Slade was  _ shit _ at lying to that kid.

 

“Hi,” the girl said, flashing a smile. She had braces, looked maybe fifteen at most. As if the older crowd wasn’t enough, now Slade had  _ teenagers _ . Well, one. “You here to play?”

 

Jesus he couldn’t believe he was doing this.

 

“Yeah,” he said, fishing out his wallet. At least the damage to  _ that _ was smaller than at the Lounge. He passed her a five, and she handed him a board.

 

“There’s markers on all the tables,” she said, “you get three regular games, and one round of four corners. We should be starting soon.” She looked down at her  _ Hello Kitty _ watch. “Maybe five minutes.” 

 

Slade nodded, took a few steps away and looked around the room. There wasn’t a single table completely unoccupied, and with a huff, he simply headed for one across the room. There were a number of elderly women already there, chatting away, but they grew quiet when he reached the table.

 

“Is this seat taken?” he asked, gesturing to the empty metal chair. Tried to remember his  _ manners _ , if only for Dick’s sake.

 

The group of women stared at him, before one folded her arms, cracked a white smile against her dark skin. “Sit on down sweetie,” she said, and Slade pulled it back, dropped the board on the table as he sat down. “But don’t expect to be winning anything.”

 

The women laughed, and Slade gave a nervous half smile. Hopefully that would be all the conversing he’d have to do. He glanced at the old round clock on the wall,  _ outdated _ , and inwardly cringed. An hour and a half of this.

 

“Haven’t seen you here before,” the woman next to him said. Larger, with her gray hair pulled into a tight bun, wearing some sort of floral dress that Slade figured was too cliche to  _ exist _ . “Always nice to see new faces.” She leaned over, “especially a nice one like yours.”

 

Slade’s eye widened a little, and the ladies giggled. “Belinda you hush!” the woman who had initially spoke to Slade said, waving at her. “You pay her no mind deary, she’s been without her husband for too damn long.”

 

“Darling Albert, rest in peace,” she said, leaning back in her chair. “Mean man but easy on the eyes.” She smiled, and Slade glanced around the table at the rest of them. They were all looking at him now, and he  _ knew _ the look when someone was studying him. “Do you have a name, darling?” Belinda asked, and Slade swallowed.

 

“Slade,” he offered.

 

“I’m Carla,” the original woman said. She had large glasses and her gray hair cropped short to her head, the tiniest of tight curls. “I promise these girls mean no harm.”

 

“Are you married?” one of them asked, and the group began to laugh. Slade sucked on his tongue, because he could lie and maybe that would end this- or he could tell the truth, and well, that always risked opening up a whole  _ new _ sort of hell. He’d punched plenty of men for the looks they gave when he said  _ boyfriend _ , but he couldn’t very well knock out an elderly woman’s denters and not end up on the couch for the night, no matter the reason.

 

“No,” Slade said, “not anymore. Divorced.”

 

“Single then?”

 

Oh  _ god _ couldn’t they just start the game already?

 

“Boyfriend,” Slade decided with, and the ladies all exchanged looks. And then a moment later, Carla was clapping her hands together.

 

“Lovely! See ladies, he’s off the menu, so get your heads back in this game.” There was a crackling of a mic, tapping of fingers, and then,

 

“Okay folks, game one is starting!” The ladies at the table suddenly got very serious, and Slade settled his chin on his pam, glancing down at his card.

 

This was going to be a long night.

 

*

 

“Aw  _ shit _ ,” one of the ladies said, as a man across the room shouted out  _ bingo! _ very loudly. She shoved her markers off her card, and Slade couldn’t help but stare. She’d been one of the quieter ones.

 

“Macy you hush,” Carla said, “watch that language, we’re in a church.”

 

“I got enough hushin’ as a child,” she said, flipping her card over to the other side. “And enough church goin’ as one too. I came here to  _ win _ .”

 

Slade said nothing, but by the end of the next round when no one at the table had won, there was another round of colorful curses. Not exactly what he was used to from the Lounge, but stronger than he expected from the ladies.

 

It actually made him smile.

 

“I thought you said you’d be winning?” Slade asked, and couldn’t even begin to fathom why he was  _ initiating _ conversation, yet he couldn’t stop himself.

 

“You feisty thing,” Carla said, laughing. “Hush up, just you wait.”

 

Except by the end of the three games  _ and _ four corners, no one at the table had won. Some of the folks began to stand up, leaving the tables, as the teenager began making her rounds, picking up the boards.

 

“Are y’all in for another round?” she asked, stopping at the table. Each woman reached for her pocket book, and Slade realized he could slip out now. Dick couldn’t fault him, he’d stayed, he’d played some, he’d given it a  _ shot _ .

 

He pulled his wallet out, passed her another five.

 

She took it, smiling and tucking it into the pocket of her apron, before heading off to the other tables. “Such a sweet girl,” Macy said, fixing her glasses, the beaded strap that could hold them around her neck being pushed back slightly. “Growin’ up so fast.”

 

“That’s her granddaughter,” Belinda said, leaning over to Slade and patting his arm. “Just wait until her next report card, you’ll hear  _ all _ about it.”

 

Slade chuckled, a real laugh. Before he could say anything else, the mic crackled again, signalling the second round of games.

 

*

 

“We’ll do better next week,” Carla was saying, as the group very slowly climbed the stairs. Slade followed them up, into the foyer outside the actual church.

 

“You say that every week,” Macy said, fishing around in her purse. “Belinda honey am I driving you home?” The woman nodded, as the sound of sneakers running on the stairs echoed, before the teenage girl appeared. Macy turned and smiled. “Come on sweetie, let’s get you home so you can do that math homework.”

 

She reached out, and the girl walked over, gave her grandmother a half hug as they all headed for the doors. Slade pulled one open, held it, and the ladies all cooed at him over it, stepping out into the evening. Jackets were put on, Belinda pulled her shawl tighter around her, and they said their goodbyes, as they began down the steps.

 

“Hope to see you next week!” Carla said, waving at Slade, who gave a polite little nod. He watched them turn towards the church parking lot, before he glanced towards the street, noticed the car idling there. He hurried down the stairs, was in the car quickly, pulling the door shut without actually looking over at Dick.

 

Dick didn’t say anything at first, until they were half way home. And then, almost tentatively, “So? How was it?”

 

Slade rolled the window down, fishing into his jacket. He plucked out a cigarette, held it between his lips and lit it- took a long drag without an answer. Normally he didn’t smoke when Dick drove, but this was  _ his _ car, not Dick’s, so he didn’t see much of a problem. He new Dick was driving it because he  _ not so secretly _ loved it.

 

“Alright,” he said, ashing the cigarette out the window. Dick’s eyes glanced over at him for a second too long, before he forced himself to look back at the road.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Yeah.” Slade didn’t elaborate, and Dick didn’t push, for the rest of the drive. They parked outside the apartment complex, and Slade climbed out, taking the last drag on his cigarette and tossing it away as Dick locked the car. The younger walked around it, offered out his hand, and Slade took it, laced their fingers together as they headed inside. 

 

One elevator ride up, an unlocked door later, and Slade was  _ home _ . He let go of Dick’s hand so he could bend over, unlace his boots. Dick kicked off his hightops, heading into the kitchen, and Slade heard the  _ clink _ of a glass. He stepped out of his boots, shrugged his jacket off and rounded the small wall towards the kitchen entrance, just to have Dick cut him off, holding up a glass.

 

“Figured you might need it,” he offered, holding out the whiskey. It was fuller than Dick normally would have poured him, and Slade took it as Dick exchanged the glass for his jacket.

 

Slade took a sip, the burn a relief, before he slipped his arm around Dick’s shoulders, kissed his hair. “Thanks,” he offered, before he let go, took another little sip. He took his jacket back, ignoring Dick’s protest- like he wasn’t capable of putting his  _ own _ jacket away, when he was the one who had to chase after Dick to not leave clothes all over their bedroom floor.

 

He headed for the bedroom, hung it up in the closet, before heading around the bed. He set his whiskey down, just to pull the polo shirt off, tossing to towards the foot of the bed and settling down in his jeans. He picked up his whiskey, reclined back in the  _ too many  _ pillows they had thanks to  _ Dick _ , and took another sip. He pulled his phone out, scrolling idly through the news, figuring he’d check his contacts about a job that had been in the works after his whiskey.

 

He heard Dick pushing the bedroom door fully open, but didn’t look up. He figured he’d be heading out soon, flying around the city in that pretty suit. Maybe he was going to light up some incense before he went, give himself  a quick card reading.

 

But the bed dipped instead, and when Slade glanced up, Dick had crawled up onto it, was looking at him. He opened his mouth to ask what was up, but Dick’s hands went straight for the fly of his jeans. He had the button popped and the zipper down before Slade could get a breath out, and god _ damn _ the kid was just too good with his fingers.

 

“Little bird,” he managed, before Dick’s hand delved in, grasped at his cock through his underwear. Slade gripped his glass tighter, and Dick nudged Slade’s arm up, kissed a scar along his abs.

 

He didn’t say a damn word, which was  _ unlike _ him, but not completely new. Slade had seen him before, where he set his mind on one thing and one thing  _ only _ , and words for once didn’t come.

 

Slade leaned back, dropped his phone on the bed as Dick leaned into his lap, tugged at the waistband to his underwear. He had his cock in his warm hands quickly, and Slade groaned, lifting his hips slightly. Dick leaned down, pink tongue darting out, the point of it running along the head of Slade’s flaccid cock, as his hand squeezed the shaft, giving a shallow stroke. A few more, and Slade was quickly swelling, but it wasn’t a surprise.

 

Dick knew how to touch him, and Slade would be  _ damned _ before he even tried to hide how badly he always wanted his boy. He moved to set his glass on the nightstand, but Dick was shaking his head.

 

“S’okay,” he said, flashing that smile that Slade swore would be the death of him. Then he bowed his head, opened his mouth, had most of Slade’s cock between his lips before Slade could even breathe again. Slade groaned, pushing up, thrusting over Dick’s tongue, cock filling out within seconds. Dick bobbed his head, his hips wriggling as he raised his ass, a little moan escaping his stuffed mouth.

 

Slade reached down, brushed Dick’s hair back, before he lifted his glass, took another sip. The burn was  _ perfect _ against how good Dick’s mouth felt, and Slade groaned, his hand trailing down the back of his neck, along the curve of Dick’s spine. Dick shivered, as Slade took another drink, his cock throbbing, spilling salty precum over Dick’s tongue.

 

Dick shivered, and Slade pushed his tshirt up, rubbed along bare skin. The dark skin of his back was broken by scars, and Slade dragged his calloused fingers over them, as Dick eased down lower, until his lips and nose pressed against the white curls of Slade’s groin.

 

Slade reached out, did set his whiskey down now, so he could hold Dick’s hair back and keep his hand on his warm skin. Dick groaned, didn’t fight when Slade arched his hips up, thrusting into his mouth. He was too damn  _ good _ at this, and Slade swore he was seeing stars already.

 

“Such a good little bird,” he whispered, fingers threading into Dick’s soft hair. Dick shivered, keened around his cock- and Slade smiled. He knew what got his boyfriend going, and a little praise was a sure fire ticket to send spraks straight between Dick’s pretty thighs.

 

Dick sucked, began to bob his head faster, and Slade grunted, didn’t fight off the tightness in his belly and balls. He tightened his hold on Dick’s hair, easing his head down, and with a groan came over his tongue. He felt Dick swallowing, refusing to pull off until Slade was relaxing back, his hold on Dick’s hair easing.

 

Dick very carefully pushed himself up onto his knees. Slade watched him swallow again, watched the way his throat worked- and when he licked his lips, Slade’s cock gave another twitch. Dick smirked, shuffling closer until he was straddling one of Slade’s strong thighs.

 

Slade hooked an arm around him, leaned in and nuzzled his neck, kissed his pulse. “What was that for?” he mumbled, peppering kisses down towards the crook of Dick’s shoulder.

 

Dick sighed, as Slade’s other hand rubbed the curve of his hips. “Maybe I just wanted to suck your cock,” he said, and Slade groaned. When Dick’s mouth got  _ filthy _ Slade swore he lost his mind- and he knew Dick was very well aware.

 

Slade’s hand on his hips moved to his fly, working Dick’s jeans open. Dick sighed, as they eased down his hips an inch once they were open. “Yeah?” Slade asked, his hand sliding in, beneath the waistband of Dick’s briefs. He slid over the thatch of dark hair at his groin, before he was rubbing Dick’s lis, making him squirm. “Maybe I just want to lay with your pussy.”

 

Dick gasped, shivering as Slade’s fingers pushed past his folds, moving straight to his clit. He was already wet, got worked up whenever he got Slade off, didn’t need the teasing. Dick rocked his hips, as Slade’s fingers worked  _ magic _ , making him squirm and whine.

 

He got his arms around Slade’s neck, crashed their mouths together in a sloppy kiss. His tongue pushed into Slade’s mouth, and Slade sucked at it, felt Dick’s hips bucking. His clit was hard, swollen from so many years on testosterone and so damn  _ fun _ to tease. Slade got it between his fingers, jerked a few times, and Dick broke the kiss, tossed his head back and gave a loud, leased cry.

 

He was gorgeous and Slade was so sure the death of him.

 

“That’s my little bird,” he whispered, his fingers moving make to rubbing up over it quickly. Little circles would have teased Dick, worked him up- but Slade didn’t think his boy wanted that now. He wanted to come and come  _ hard _ , and Slade was more than happy to help.

 

His fingers favored the right side of Dick’s clit, like he knew Dick liked, and Dick was shaking, clutching at his bare back and crying out his name when he came in a rush. Slade felt it drenching his fingers, knew it’d soak into Dick’s briefs. He slowed, but didn’t stop until Dick was reaching down with one hand, gripping his wrist.

 

“That- wasn’t the plan,” Dick panted, settling back to actually sit on Slade’s thigh. Slade chuckled, lifted his glistening fingers and licked them clean, watching the way Dick’s eyes stayed fixed on the movement of his tongue.

 

“There was a plan?” he asked, reaching for his whiskey. He took a sip was Dick reached down, buttoned his jeans back up.

 

“Sort of,” he admitted, “listen… I’m sorry.” He reached down, gently gripped Slade’s thigh between his legs. “I shouldn’t have forced you to go out. I just  _ worry _ about you. I don’t really feel comfortable with you going back to the Iceberg, but we can… figure something out.”

 

Slade took another sip of whiskey, before he shrugged his shoulder. Dick quirked a brow, and Slade glanced away, good eye focusing on Dick’s altar across the room. “It wasn’t that bad,” he said, thinking the ladies  _ had _ been bemusing. And maybe it was sort of nice to think he could go out for entertainment and  _ not _ run the risk of losing his life. Or at least a substantial amount of blood.

 

Dick perked up over that. “Yeah?” he asked, sliding closer, until he was snuggled right up to Slade’s bare chest. He reached up, teased his white chest hair with his fingers. “Does that mean you’re going back next week?”

 

Slade hummed, took the last sip of whiskey from his glass. He set the glass aside, before he turned, guided Dick’s chin up with his hand and kissed him, softly. “I suppose,” he said, close to his mouth, before adding, “if it gives you peace of mind, babydoll.”

  
Dick smiled, reaching up to cover Slade’s hand with his own, not saying a word but instead kissing him again.


	2. Chapter 2

The next Thursday came around faster than Slade thought it would. Things had been slow on the  _ job  _ front, but that was okay. It gave him more time to spend with Dick, more time to watch his pretty little bird fly above the skyline and then come back to his nest for the night. He was happy to have a leisurely week, but Slade was also happy to be able to break the monotony of it up with his bingo plans. 

 

Slade could have scoffed at himself as he dressed. He had assured Dick that he didn’t need help this time, and though Dick was clearly dubious, he allowed Slade to pick his own wardrobe this time. Slade took a moment to admire himself in the mirror, and to make sure that each button on the plaid shirt he had put on was situated in its correct hole. He couldn’t show up looking disheveled, Slade was sure the ladies wouldn’t let him hear the end of it. 

 

Instead of examining that thought, Slade strode out of the bedroom and into the living room where Dick was sitting, perched on the arm of the couch. He gave a low whistle when Slade came into view. 

 

“Like what you see, little bird?” 

 

“You clean up nicely, that’s for sure.” Dick answered, hopping off the couch and crowding into Slade’s space. Slade stared down at him, drinking in his scent - lavender and smoke. 

 

“Don’t get  _ too  _ used to it.” Slade mumbled, talking into Dick’s hair. 

 

“I won’t. I still like you rough around the edges.” 

 

“Good.” Slade answered, thinking for a moment. “I’m wearing my jacket tonight.” 

 

*

 

Slade stubbed out a cigarette as Dick pulled up to the door of the church. He leaned across the console and pressed a kiss to Dick’s cheek before opening the door and getting out, his leather jacket squeaking against the upholstery of the seat. 

 

“Call me if you need anything! Good luck!” Dick shouted before Slade shut the door. He waved as Dick drove away, down the street and out of sight. Slade stood on the sidewalk for a moment, taking a deep breath and tasting the cool evening air, collecting himself before he went inside for the evening.

 

“Slade, honey?” A voice came from behind him and he turned around immediately, seeing one of the women that he recognized from last week. He racked his brain quickly, trying to remember her name, and finding it just in time.    
  


“Belinda, hello.” He said as he walked up to her, planting a cordial kiss on her cheek. She blushed immediately and Slade almost laughed.    
  


“Such a gentleman,” She commented as Slade opened the door and held it for her. “The other ladies are already inside. I was running a little late with dinner but they saved seats!” 

 

Slade followed her as she hurried inside, and handed money to the teenager he now knew as Macy’s granddaughter. They sat down at the same table from last week, just as the numbers were starting to be called. Belinda was in a fluster, trying not to get behind and Carla helped her gather up her markers before waving a silent but warm hello at Slade. 

 

Slade found he was slightly disappointed that the game was beginning a bit earlier than it had last week. He was lying to himself if he said that he wasn’t looking forward to talking to the ladies again. Maybe during the break there would be time. 

 

The first round of games passed by uneventfully, not a single win from Slade’s group, or even the table around them. Every time someone yelled bingo from across the room, Macy swore under her breath and Carla chided her before angrily pushing her own chips off her board. 

 

“They’re cheating over there!” Macy declared, only loud enough for them to hear. 

 

“All the luck is on  _ that  _ side of the room tonight.” Carla agreed. “Maybe we should switch spots next time.”   

 

Slade smiled and fished another five dollars out of his wallet. People had begun to leave, but he knew he was going to stay for the next round. Someone would be over to collect his money soon enough. He placed his five face up on the table and slid his seat back. 

 

“I’m going out to get some air. I’ll be back before round two starts.”

 

“Mind a little company?” Belinda asked, and Slade nodded. He couldn’t say no. 

 

She followed him outside and Slade held the door for her again, out of habit. He took a few steps from the door and then slouched against the rough stone wall of the church before taking his pack of cigarettes out of the inside pocket of his jacket. Belinda’s face positively lit up. 

 

“Mind sharing a smoke with an ol’ lady?” She asked and Slade laughed, offering her the package. 

 

“Of course I don’t mind, but don’t tell your friends. They’ll think I’m a bad influence. 

 

“Ah, screw them. I’m old enough to make my own decisions.” 

 

Slade laughed again as he lit his cigarette and handed her the lighter. 

 

“So…” Belinda started after she lit hers, and Slade could feel her looking at him. He raised his eyebrows, waiting for her to continue. “Tell me about that cute boy who dropped you off.” 

 

“That was Dick.” Slade explained, taking a slow drag and exhaling before continuing. “My boyfriend.” 

 

“Oh!” Belinda exclaimed, covering her mouth after. “You’re dating him? What a pretty thing!” 

 

Slade nodded, exhaling smoke. “Yeah, he is pretty, isn’t he?” 

 

“He looks familiar, though. Like I’ve seen him somewhere.” 

 

“You probably have,” Slade’s voice was clipped as he held a breath of smoke inside his lungs. He exhaled. “Dick Grayson, hometown celebrity.” 

 

“Yes! Bruce Wayne’s boy.” 

 

Slade groaned inwardly, he didn’t want to talk about  _ Bruce  _ on his night off. He nodded and dropped his finished cigarette, crushing it beneath his heel. “Let’s get back in there before Carla and Macy win all our money, shall we?” 

 

Slade held out his arm and Belinda clung to his elbow, walking back into the hall with him, side by side. The game hadn’t started yet when they took their seats. They were only sitting down for moments before Belinda leaned in and whispered loudly. “Ladies...Slade here is dating Dick Grayson.”

 

Slade felt his cheeks flush red and he widened his eye at the sudden outburst. 

 

“Belinda-” Carla started, her tone aghast. 

 

“ _ Who?”  _ Macy asked, and Belinda continued. 

 

“Dick Grayson.  _ The  _ Dick Grayson.” 

 

Slade rolled his eye. “Ladies…” 

  
“You should have seen him when he dropped Slade off tonight! He was so precious, all buckled up in the driver’s seat.” 

 

“That’s how you drive a car, Belinda.” Macy interjected. 

 

“Oh, hush up now. You know exactly what I meant.” Belinda folded her arms across her chest and leaned back in her chair. 

 

“How long have you two been together?” Carla asked, her voice soft and genuinely curious. 

 

“About three years.” Slade answered, after thinking for a moment.    
  
“Well, when are you getting married? Have you proposed?” Belinda asked, perking back up. 

 

“I - uh, no. I haven’t proposed.” 

 

“What are you waiting for?” She asked and Slade laughed. 

 

“I’m not sure.” 

 

Before anything else could be said, the microphone crackled to life and the next round of games began. 

 

Again, they were uneventful, and Slade and the three ladies left with empty pockets. 

 

“See you next week, hun?” Carla asked as Slade stood up and started putting his coat on. 

 

“Another night with you ladies? Wouldn’t miss it.” Slade smiled, and it went all the way to his eye, crinkling the skin around it. 

 

“Next week is cookie night, isn’t it, Car?” Macy asked. 

 

“Oh yes.” Carla replied with a wink. “You’ll want to be here for that, I’m sure.” 

 

Slade walked the women out to the parking lot, making sure each of them got into their cars safely. Belinda was last and before she slipped into the passenger seat, she put her hand on Slade’s bicep, almost touching his shoulder. She couldn’t reach any higher. 

 

“I didn’t mean anything by what I said earlier. I hope I didn’t embarrass you too much.” 

 

“Oh, no. No, not at all. You’re fine.” Slade patted her hand and helped her into the car with a smile. 

 

He watched the car drive away before Dick pulled up to pick him up. 

 

He opened the door and hopped in, snapping the seat belt into place as Dick started to drive away. 

 

“Win anything tonight?” Dick asked, his voice chipper and cheerful. 

 

“Nah,” Slade answered. “Maybe next week.” 

 

Dick smiled over that, a smirk that twisted half his face into something picturesque. “Maybe I’ll have to make you something for luck.” 

 

Slade reached over and took Dick’s hand, clasping it in his own and bringing it up to his lips for a quick kiss. “I’d like that. We talked about you tonight.” 

 

“Oh?” Dick said, letting his hand lay in Slade’s lap. 

 

“Yeah. Not sure who the ladies are more jealous of in the situation anymore, you or me.” 

 

“Careful now, or  _ I’ll _ get jealous.” Dick answered before turning a corner and slipping his hand back. “I was thinking about you the whole time you were gone…” 

 

“Really?” Slade answered, voice taking on a hint of gravel and a spark of desire travelled toward his groin. “What about?”

 

“ _ Yeah.”  _ Dick said, slightly breathless. They were stopped at a red light and Dick slid the hand Slade had just been holding down his torso and beneath the seam of the leggings he was wearing. Dick tipped his head back and hiccuped a small moan, and Slade could only imagine what his fingers were doing. He swore he could feel the wet heat on his own, taste it on his tongue. “I was... _ ahh... _ thinking about what we could do tonight.” 

 

The light turned green and Dick slid his hand back out of his pants. Slade grasped at his wrist and pulled his arm over once more, before guiding it to his mouth and twisting his tongue around Dick’s first two fingers. Slade bobbed his head forward, lapping at the sweet taste that was inherently  _ Dick  _ and a moan vibrated the bones in Dick’s hand. 

 

Dick moaned, and Slade swore he felt the car speed up. That was okay with him. He couldn’t  _ wait  _ to get home. 

  
  


*

 

Slade couldn’t get the apartment door open fast enough. The moment it was closed, and Dick was trying to turn the lock, Slade was boxing him into the door, getting his back against it. He kissed his mouth, firm and rough, and Dick keened into the kiss, hips bucking forward. He flicked the lock and then got his hands on Slade’s bicep, squeezing, loving the feeling of hard, firm muscle. His blunt nails dug at the leather of Slade’s jacket, as Slade licked into his mouth, trailed his tongue along his teeth.

 

“Better- places for this,” Dick panted, when Slade broke off. Slade flashed a grin, thinking  _ any place _ was a good place to kiss Dick Grayson- but stepped back, let Dick push off the door. Before Dick could get far though, Slade was grabbing his arm, turning him and hauling him into the kitchen, the closet room. Dick stumbled, laughing, until Slade was turning him, shoving him against the counter. His fingers curled in Dick’s leggings and briefs, hauling them down his thighs as he dropped to his knees. The  _ thud _ was loud, but Slade didn’t even cringe over the impact- not when his face was so damn close to heaven. “ _ Slade _ ,” Dick gasped, shivering as the cool air hit his warm thighs, his wet pussy.

 

Slade grinned, sprawled his hands on Dick’s hips and held him firmly back against the counter. “You didn’t think that taste in the car would be enough for me, did you little bird?” Before Dick could respond, Slade was leaning forward, nuzzling the curls at Dick’s groin, his tongue running along his lips. Dick tipped his head back, hands grasping the counter as he spread his legs wider, gave Slade better access.

 

“Hoped- it wasn’t,” Dick managed, as Slade’s tongue slipped into his heat, began lazy circles around his clit. His hips stuttered, but Slade held him steady. “ _ Oh god _ .” Dick bit his tongue, as Slade hummed, pressing closer, loving when his lips were soaked, his beard and chin growing wet.

 

The fact that he did this to Dick, that he got him so wet, it made him harder than anything ever had in his life.

 

Slade sucked at his clit, had Dick gasping. His knuckles were going white from his hold on the counter. He moaned, thighs trembling, and Slade chuckled. The vibrations on his clit had him crying out, bucking hard into Slade’s mouth- not coming, but so damn  _ close _ for a second as his body clenched up.

 

Dick let go of the counter with one hand, reached for Slade’s head. He stroked his hand back, before he wrapped his ponytail around his fist, tugged so that Slade had to angle his head higher, the flat of his tongue lapping along the underside of his clit.

 

“I thought… about this,” Dick gasped, as Slade’s tongue made any sort of thought process nearly impossible. “While you were gone. I…  _ ah _ Slade!” He tugged at his hair, belly clenching up again in a near orgasm. “I bit your pillow and wished it was your tongue and not my fingers.”

 

Slade groaned. His fingers were digging into Dick’s hips, pressure that could leave bruises. Had, in the past, when his mouth brought Dick off again and again until he swore he was going to pass out. Dick dropped his head back further, mouth falling open as Slade’s tongue continued those steady, hard flicks over his clit- and the next time his belly went tight, it wound itself until the knot nearly hurt- and then in a rush of pure bliss released. Dick shook, hips bucking against Slade’s lips and tongue, his voice giving a broken groan of his name as he rode out the orgasm.

 

Slade lapped at his clit until Dick was pulling his hair, forcing him back. Slade panted, licked lower instead, got a taste of the juices flowing so damn freely out of Dick, groaned loudly as his cock throbbing painfully in his pants. Dick whined, his hand holding Slade’s hair shaking so badly he could feel it. When Slade pulled back Dick let go, watched as Slade stood up, seemed huge and imposing and everything he wanted.

 

Slade nearly tore his jacket off, let it fall to the ground before he was grabbing Dick. He turned him around, and Dick bent over, half sprawling on the counter as he lifted his ass, showing off his pink lips, the wet smudges on his thighs now. Slade groaned, got his belt and pant open in record time, pulled his cock free and gave himself a solid stroke. Dick keened, wriggling his hips, impatient himself as always, and Slade grinned, reached out and gave his round ass a firm smack.

 

Dick yelped, pushed himself up and looked back, as Slade smoothed his hand over the tender flesh, rubbing the ache away. “Don’t do that,” Dick chided, “unless it’s a threat you can make good on.”

 

“Yeah?” Slade stepped closer, the hand around his cock holding himself steady as he rubbed his cockhead against Dick’s wet lips. “You want me to bend you over my knee, pretty bird?”

 

Dick groaned, eyes rolling. “Fuck maybe,” he breathed. Which wasn’t a  _ new _ idea- but it was one they hadn’t indulged in, in quite some time. Slade filed it away for another night. Instead of giving Dick another answer, he eased the head of his cock in, had Dick groaning. Slade’s hand fell away, both going for Dick’s hips, as he eased the rest of the way in, until Dick’s ass was pushed up against him snugly. Dick wriggled around, still looking back at him. “Such- a… bad man,” Dick gasped, his voice laced with a teasing tone, “not even wearing a condom.”

 

Slade chuckled, bent over Dick and forced him harder to the counter. Dick turned away, let himself sprawl out against it again, as Slade gave a shallow thrust into him. “Couldn’t wait,” he breathed, watching the muscles in Dick’s shoulders twitch. “Do you want me to stop, little bird?”

 

“No!” Dick nearly wailed it, squirming around. “Fuckin’ god  _ don’t you dare _ .” Slade chuckled again, his thrust still shallow as he was bent over Dick.

 

“Such a demanding boy,” he whispered, his hand sliding up from Dick’s hips to his waist. He placed a single kiss to the center of his back, before he straightened up, using his hold on Dick’s waist to jerk him back, his thrusts going from shallow to deep, hard enough that each dragged a moan or whine out of Dick.

 

Dick lifted up on his toes, tried to bare himself more for Slade. Panting, Slade had to bite at his tongue, swore this man would be his utter undoing. He was so ungodly  _ perfect _ , and the sex blew his mind so damn far into oblivion he wasn’t sure how he ever clawed his way out, after every time.

 

“Slade,” Dick whined, huffing harder now. “Let me see you.” Slade pulled out, never one to deny Dick any request. He helped him turn, lifted him up and settled him on the counter. A moment of shuffling, and he was back inside him, Dick’s arms curling around his shoulders and pulled him close.

 

Dick kissed him, needy and affectionate, and Slade melted into it. His thrusts were still hard, his hands rubbing along Dick’s sides, as Dick clung desperately. “Love you,” Dick panted, against his mouth, and Slade could only smile.

 

“Love you too, little bird.” Dick’s smile was surreal, before he was freeing one arm from around Slade’s shoulders. He reached between them, slid his fingers along his pussy, down to spread his lips, so Slade could feel his fingers as he thrust into him. He groaned, leaned into Dick’s neck and nuzzled it, smelled lavender and his sweat. Dick shuddered, before his fingers were moving back up, rubbing at his clit now. Slade kissed his neck, breathed into his skin as Dick mewled, shuddering around him. “Want you to come again,” Slade mumbled, and Dick gasped, tightening up around him.

 

He was trying to push against Slade, writhing about desperately. Slade’s own belly ached with how tight it was, but god, he wouldn’t come without Dick. He just wanted his boyfriend to feel  _ good _ , as good as he possibly could. Over and over and  _ over _ again.

 

Dick’s hips shuddered, and suddenly he was digging his nails into Slade’s shirt. Slade could just feel the points through the fabric, as Dick came around him, held him in deep so Slade could give only shallow thrusts. He gritted his teeth, groaning through them as he let Dick ride out his second orgasm. The moment Dick loosened his hold on his shoulder, though, Slade was pulling back, pulling out as he felt his cock throb, a swell of precum spilling down his length.

 

“Baby,” Dick whispered, sounding  _ high _ , strung out. He watched Slade straighten up, his eyes half lidded, before he was reaching out. Slade took his hands, helped him off the counter- but then Dick was sprawling down on his knees, wrapping a hand around Slade’s wet cock and giving him a firm thrust. Slade shuddered, watched as Dick stuck his tongue out, flicked it against his cockhead.

 

Slade had been so damn close, had used every bit of self control not to come inside Dick- that a few strokes, a few seconds of just seeing Dick like that, and he was gone. He groaned, loud, rumbling up from his chest, spilled over Dick’s tongue, his lips. It dripped down his chin, left him looking  _ wrecked _ . His hand slowed, before he let go of Slade’s cock, reached his fingers up and dragged them through the cum on his chin and lips, sucking on them loudly.

 

Slade groaned, bent over and hauled Dick back up to his feet. Dick was giggling, shaking when Slade’s tongue traced up his chin, towards the corner of his mouth, licked his own cum up. Dick shuddered, as one of Slade’s hands buried in his hair, held him steady so he could peck his lips.

 

“I’m far from done with you,” Slade mumbled, and Dick full on grinned.

  
“I’d be disappointed if you were. The night’s  _ young _ \- and so am I.” He winked, and Slade couldn’t help but smile.


	3. Chapter 3

“Am I ever going to meet your new friends?” Dick asked, as the car idled at the light just down the street from the church. Slade glanced over at him, and Dick returned the look for a moment. “I mean, you talked about me. I deserve to give a better impression.”

 

Slade rolled his eye. “Like I could paint you as anything but perfect.” He reached over, brushed Dick’s hair back as the light changed and they moved with traffic. He pulled his hand back, even though he didn’t want to- wanted to thread his fingers in Dick’s soft hair, toy it around his fingers.

 

Dick pulled up to the church, set the car in park and watched as Slade undid his seatbelt. “Should we keep condoms in the kitchen?” he blurted, and Slade choked.

 

“What?” he asked, turning to stare at him. Dick shrugged a shoulder.

 

“I was just thinking about what happened last week and all. Maybe we should just keep them in every room…” he trailed off, gave a wicked smile, and Slade reached over, curled his hand behind his head.

 

“You’re filthy,” he whispered, pulling Dick in. The kiss was shockingly soft and affectionate though, and  _ Slade _ was the one to sigh into it. He didn’t want to pull away, dragged it out until Dick squirmed free, smiling at him.

 

“Get in there before you’re missed,” he whispered, even as he lifted his hand, dragged his fingers along Slade’s cheek. Slade smiled at him, leaned in and pecked the tip of his nose, got Dick to snort out a laugh.

 

“I’ll see you later,” Slade offered, turning and climbing out of the car. He shut the door, jogging up the church steps as Dick pulled away. He let himself in, heading downstairs. “I like that sweater,” he said to the girl who took his five. She smiled so hard she blushed, glancing down at her sneakers.

 

“Thanks,” she said, tugging at the sleeves of the purple and blue striped cardigan.

 

“My boyfriend would love it,” Slade added, giving her shoulder a little pat and swearing he heard her  _ squeal _ . He walked past her, smiling, right up towards the seat that felt like it was  _ his _ now. He pulled it out as the women turned towards him. “Ladies.”

 

“Well hello handsome,” Belinda said, reaching right over the pat his bicep through his jacket. Slade smiled at her, greeted all the ladies, before Macy was suddenly standing up, bustling over and holding out a platter she had lifted from the table.

 

“It’s cookie night,” she said, “and I will be  _ damned _ if you don’t try at least one.”

 

“Macy your mouth!” Carla warned, as Slade glanced over the plate, picking up a heavily frosted cookie. “We are in a church.”

 

“Aw, I’m too old to be worried about damnation at this point ‘cause of my mouth, Carla.” She turned back to Slade as he took a bite, mouth flooded with an overly sugary sweetness.

 

“My boyfriend would love this,” he reasoned, even as he took another bite. Macy simply beamed over that.

 

“Well then you take some on home to that boy! Have to make sure he eats. He does eat right? I wonder with those rich folk sometimes- living on, oh what is in now? Kale?”

 

The ladies laughed, and Slade could only join in. “Trust me,” he said, “he eats.” He popped the rest of the cookie in his mouth as Macy settled back into her seat. Just as she did Carla was pushing another plate down towards Slade.

 

“Old family recipe,” she said, and Slade really wasn’t sure how to say  _ no _ . He thanked her and picked up another cookie, just as the mic crackled to life.

 

As chips started being placed on boards, Belinda slid yet  _ another  _ plate of cookies Slade’s way. She looked at him expectantly until he took a cookie, this on was thick and smelled amazingly of peanut butter. Slade took one bite and had to stop himself from moaning aloud. He looked over at Belinda with a wide eye and she nodded and winked at him. 

 

“Belinda thinks her peanut butter blossoms are the best in county.” Carla whispered, nudging Slade. 

 

“I would have to agree.” Slade answered before taking another bite. 

 

He took another cookie from the plate before passing it back to Belinda. Peanut butter was his one true weakness, if he was being honest with himself. 

 

Someone shouted bingo, much too early for Slade’s liking, but it gave him a moment to talk while boards were being cleared. “If I had known  _ everyone _ was bringing cookies, I could have brought some too.” 

 

“Next time, sweetheart.” Carla reassured him with a pat on one of his hands. 

 

Slade smirked and reached to move the jacket he was still wearing  _ just so.  _ The light caught on the silver lid of a flask. “I do…have  _ something  _ I could share.” 

 

Belinda sat across from him and had caught a full glimpse of the flask. Slade had thought it was almost comical the way her eyes lit up. He removed it from his coat pocket and shook it a little before taking a sip himself. He handed it out to Belinda, who took it and sipped hastily before handing it back. 

 

“Now, what’s in there?” Carla asked, taking the flask and sniffing it slightly. 

 

“Old family recipe.” Slade smirked, and the ladies began laughing uncontrollably. 

 

Carla handed it back to Slade with a grimace. “This is a  _ church.”  _

 

“Then thank Jesus for this whiskey.” Slade answered and the ladies all laughed again, even Carla. 

 

Tentatively, Macy held out her hand. “Trade you a few sips for another cookie.” 

 

“You’re not driving, are you?” 

 

“Oh, no! Carla is my DD.” 

 

“Have been for the last thirty years, haven’t I?” Carla retorted as Slade slipped the flask down the table. 

 

By the time the next game started, everyone around was laughing and Slade was washing down another cookie with his whiskey. 

 

Four games, three peanut butter cookies, and an innumerable number of sips of whiskey later, the last game of four corners was in full swing. His flask was nearly empty, and Slade was  _ dangerously  _ close to winning. He only needed one more square, and he had never come this close before. 

 

“This could be it, ladies.” Slade announced, tapping a chip against his board to show them what he was talking about. They hummed in support and a hush fell over them before the next number was called. 

 

“O 69.”

 

It wasn't the space he was hoping for, but Slade couldn't help the snort that escaped him. He bit his bottom lip in an attempt to stifle the laugh that was already reverberating off the empty walls. Damn this place and it's acoustics. Belinda was laughing into her palm across from him as well, and Macy looked about to burst into giggles. 

 

“Like a true bingo rookie…” Carla trailed but there was mirth in her voice, despite the mumbles of displeasure directed toward their section of the table. “Heads back in the game, this is anybody’s board.” 

 

“B 12.” 

 

_ “Bingo!”  _ A voice from across the room sounded. 

 

“Fuck!” Slade said, a bit too loudly. 

 

He covered his mouth and looked around, trying to keep from laughing as the stares of those around him tried to bore into his skin. Belinda was laughing across from him and Carla was as well, despite all the protests to Macy’s swearing in the past. 

 

“Whoops.” Slade chuckled, clearing the pieces off his board. The ladies tittered in laughter as they cleaned up their places as well. 

 

As they were all standing to put their coats on, Belinda slid a plate of the all the leftover cookies to Slade. “Bring these home to your boyfriend. And let us know what he thinks!” 

 

Slade smiled, accepting the plate. “I will. He wants to meet you gals. Maybe some night I can get him to come play with us.” 

 

The ladies all reacted in excitement, and Slade made a mental note to tell Dick about it when he gave him the cookies. 

 

*

 

When Slade got in the car, he sagged against the back of the seat. Suddenly, he was exhausted. Exhausted, and definitely drunk. Dick leaned over, planted his lips on Slade’s mouth and smiled when he pulled away. “You taste like whiskey and sugar.” 

 

“You would be right.” Slade answered, holding up the plate of cookies he had been keeping in his lap. “These are for you. It was cookie night.” 

 

“Cookie night, huh? Whiskey night too?” Dick asked as he started to drive away from the church. 

 

Slade laughed. “Well, I had nothing else to share. Try a peanut butter one.” 

 

Slade started to unwrap the plate and handed Dick a cookie. He took it and placed it in his mouth almost in one bite. “Wow, this  _ is  _ delicious. You better have another one right now or I’m going to eat them all.” 

 

“Ugh, no thanks.” Slade said, his stomach feeling full and just a little bit sour. “I think I’ve had more than enough.” 

 

Dick looked over and saw Slade rubbing at his stomach slightly and laughed a little. 

 

“Those old ladies shove too many cookies down your throat?” 

 

“I didn’t want to be rude. And they  _ were  _ good.” Slade sighed, trying to rub out a stomach cramp. “I don’t know how all you eat is sweet things. Wait until you’re my age, and your gut is going to rot right out.” 

 

“Oh, so you’re saying you  _ are  _ an old man now?” Dick joked, reaching over to lay a hand on Slade’s knee as he drove. 

 

“ _ Your _ old man.” 

 

*

 

When they reached the apartment, Slade was quick to take off his jeans and switch into something more comfortable, a long pair of dark blue lounge pants. He forewent a shirt and sat down in the living room. He could hear Dick munching on the cookies he had brought from the kitchen. He smiled, he couldn’t wait to tell the ladies how much Dick liked them. 

 

For the time being though, Slade was a little disappointed in himself. The past few weeks of bingo nights had brought him home to have amazingly stellar sex with Dick, but tonight the cookies he had eaten mixed with the whiskey were leaving him feeling lethargic, and his stomach was cramping uncomfortably. It wasn’t anything he was too worried about, he was sure he could sleep it off and be fine in the morning, but for now it was definitely unfortunate. 

 

Slade sprawled himself out on the couch and splayed a hand across his stomach. Without warning, Dick hopped over the back of the couch and plopped down next to him. 

 

“Unh,” Slade groaned. “Little bird, be careful.” 

 

Dick frowned, placed his hand on top of Slade’s. “Is it really bothering you?” 

 

Slade nodded, looking away from Dick. He hated when things like this happened. Dick tsked and drew closer to Slade. 

 

“Come here, let me help.” 

 

Slade did as Dick asked. He moved his hand so Dick could place his own over his stomach and Dick began rubbing small soothing circles into his skin. It felt  _ wonderful.  _ Slade sighed in relief and Dick applied a bit more pressure. Slade swore that boy could do magic with his hands. 

 

As if Dick read his mind, he pulled his hand away and poured a few drops of oil onto his palm. “It’s peppermint. Good for upset stomachs.” 

 

“My stomach isn’t upset,” Slade protested, petulant, as a gurgle from his middle proved him wrong. 

 

“Sure it isn’t.” Dick agreed. “But this will still help.” 

 

And it did. The oil was cooling and soothing in just the right ways and Slade melted into the touch. 

 

“How does that feel now?” Dick asked, his voice a hoarse whisper. 

 

“Better. Much better.” Slade sighed. He felt like he could fall asleep right here on the couch with Dick curled up against his hip. But Dick had other ideas. 

 

“Let’s get you into bed, shall we?” 

 

“Dick, it’s early.” 

 

“I didn’t say we were going to  _ sleep. _ ” 

  
Slade smiled as he followed Dick to their bedroom. Maybe he  _ was  _ going to get laid tonight after all.


	4. Chapter 4

“You sound worn out,” Dick said, cradling his phone against his cheek as he bent to check the lacing on his boots. Outside the city was lulling into night, just waiting for him to throw himself off a rooftop and ride the air current.

 

“Just frustrated,” Slade grumbled, on the other end. Half way across the world, probably sprawled out on his hotel bed, Dick figured. Half dressed, waiting to drag himself to the shower before he slept the day away. “I had planned to be home already.”

  
  


“I know baby,” Dick said, straightening up again. He walked towards his altar, making sure his incense had burned out. “I miss you.”

 

Slade hummed. “I miss you too little bird.” Dick straightened up, heard Slade sigh again. “I hope the girls don’t think something happened to me.”

 

Dick paused, stifling a giggle. Slade was worried about missing his weekly  _ bingo _ . “You’ll have to make it up to them. Buy them flowers or something.”

 

“Whiskey would go over better.”

 

Dick  _ couldn’t _ stifle that laugh. “You’re horrible,” he said, heading out into the apartment, towards the kitchen. “Keep yourself in one piece, alright? And come home soon. I miss you.” Dick paused, bit his lip for a moment. “In a  _ lot _ of different ways.”

 

Slade gave a little groan, the kind that flooded Dick’s entire body with fire. “If you miss me so much, a picture would make sure I don’t forget you.”

 

“ _ Dog _ .” Still, Dick turned, pressed his back against the fridge. “I’m in my suit, sorry.”

 

“You know I like you in it.”

 

Dick laughed again, his toes curling in his boots. “I’m hanging up now,” he said, “I’ve got a city to maintain. Don’t come back to me in pieces.”

 

“No promises.” There was the smallest pause. “I love you. Stay safe.”

 

Dick positively beamed. “I love you too.”

 

*

 

Dick drove down the familiar street the next night, pulling into the church parking lot instead of up to the curb. He killed the engine, stepping out of the car, stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets. The autumn air was getting cooler, but it was refreshing. He made his way up the church steps, let himself inside and followed the handmade signs downstairs.

 

The basement looked exactly like how he  _ pictured _ it would- fold out tables and chairs filled with older folks. Scuffed but not unclean tiles on the floor, outdated clock. He almost wanted to laugh at how  _ perfect  _ it was.

 

“Hi,” he said, stepping up to the teenager by the door. She had her frizzy hair pulled into a side ponytail, had been looking at her phone when Dick had first stepped in. She glanced up, before her mouth opened and she nearly dropped it. “How much is it to play?”

 

“F-five dollars,” she said, shoving her phone into the pocket of her apron. Dick kept his smile, fished his wallet out and pulled out a five, handing it to her. She passed him a board, her hands shaking a little. “I like your watch,” he said, nodding towards her Hello Kitty watch. “I have a brother who won’t admit it, but he  _ adores _ that cat.”

 

She flashed a smile, mostly braces, color flooding her cheeks.

 

“Maybe you can help me,” Dick said, “I’m looking for a particular group of ladies. My boyfriend comes here every Thursday- white ponytail, eyepatch.”

 

“Oh! Slade!” She perked up suddenly, positively beaming. “He sits with my grandma Macy!” She pointed towards a table, and Dick tipped his head.

 

“Thanks honey.” She gave a  _ squeal _ , and Dick chuckled to himself, walking across the room towards the table. There was a corner chair free, and Dick walked up to it, pulling it out. The ladies all looked up at him, for a moment perplexed, before they seemed to recognize him.

 

“You’re Slade’s boy!” the woman next to the empty chair said loudly. She positively beamed, and Dick gave a polite smile.

 

“Most days,” he teased, “is this seat taken?”

 

“Usually by your rather handsome man,” she continued, as Dick pulled it out and sat down.

 

“Where is he?” a woman across the table asked.

 

“He’s stuck away on business,” Dick said, “and he was worried you ladies might think something happened to him. I thought I’d come relay the message. I’m Dick.” He offered another smile, the kind he used at Bruce’s parties, and there was a round of giggles.

 

“Belinda,” the woman next to him said, reaching out and patting his arm. “My you are just a sweet little thing!”

 

“Belinda! Behave!” the woman across the table said. “Pay her no mind sweetie, she’s just a lost cause. I’m Carla.”

 

“And I’m Macy,” the final woman said, peeking around Carla and leaning across the table. “But Belinda is right- you’re even prettier up close! We were wondering when Slade was going to bring you around.”

 

Dick leaned his chin onto his palm. “Well, I didn’t want to intrude.” Before the ladies could say anything Dick heard a voice over the mic, and realized the game was starting. The table fell into a hushed seriousness, and Dick had to bite his tongue, thinking it was  _ adorable _ how into this everyone was. ANd he wondered if Slade got like this.

 

He covered his mouth, could picture his boyfriend sitting there, looking intently at the board. That little crease in his brow. It was comical- and yet, it made Dick feel secure. Better than the mental images he drew up of Slade at the Iceberg Lounge.

 

The games went quickly, and Dick  _ did _ chuckle when the ladies cursed at every loss. Four games in, and they were all pulling out their pocket books, getting ready for the next round.

 

The teenager walked over, and Dick pulled out his wallet, slipping her a twenty. “For the whole table,” he said with a wink, and the ladies all smiled.

 

“What a little gentleman you are!” Belinda said, patting his arm again. “Why how did Slade get such a good boy like you?”

 

Dick snorted a laugh, didn’t care how unbecoming it was. “I’ve known him since I was young,” he admitted, before he added, “not that, you know… maybe I should start that over again.” He cleared his throat, felt a little color rising to his cheeks. “I’ve just known him a really long time. Trust me, we didn’t plan this. But y’know… can’t fight chemistry.”

 

The ladies were all studying him, before Macy suddenly asked, “you said he’s away on business?” Dick gave a quiet  _ mhm _ , flipping his board and hoping this side was a little luckier.

 

There was a few silent, dragging moments, before Belinda announced, very loudly, “Why this is just like my soaps!” Dick glanced up, confused, and she was squirming in her seat, acting more like a  _ teenager _ than a woman in her seventies. “A young thing like you going after an older man, and my, if he’s away on such a business trip- you met him through that father of yours, didn’t you?”

 

Dick swallowed thickly. Oh,  _ no _ , that wasn't- well. It wasn’t exactly  _ wrong _ , if he hadn’t been Robin he never would’ve met Slade, and he was only Robin because of Bruce, but…

 

“Belinda!” Carla, trying to calm her, but Macy was joining in as well.

 

“It makes such sense,” she said, leaning onto the table. “That’s how you knew him growing up! Oh what a little scandal you two have.” She and Belinda giggled, and even Carla was beginning to look interested.

 

And… well, it wasn’t like Dick could tell them the  _ truth _ , so, “You caught me.” He lifted his hands up. “But how could I say no? You’ve seen him after all.”

 

They all giggled over that, and Dick figured a little white lie wouldn’t hurt anyone.

 

*

 

Dick walked with the ladies out into the parking lot, enjoying listening to their banter. They were huffing about another night of losses, and he was beginning to think they  _ never _ won. They paused a few steps into the parking lot, as Carla began looking for her keys.

 

“Let me check my bag,” Belinda said, rummaging around her own purse, “you might’ve handed them to me.” Dick stuffed his hands in his pockets, just as the teenager from earlier made her way over quickly. She paused next to Macy, giving Dick a single look before blushing  _ again _ .

 

It was adorable.

 

“Are you really Dick Grayson?” she asked, against the noises of Belinda and Carla going for a second look through their purses. Macy had turned, was offering to hold whatever things they pulled out.

 

“I am,” Dick said with a smile, facing her. She shifted her weight from foot to foot, before she blurted out,

 

“I really like you!” It was loud, yet didn’t disturb the ladies. She reached up, covered her mouth with her hands, looked utterly mortified. Dick kept his smile, subtle and charming- she was just a kid, and he understood. He’d blurted that to plenty of people at her age, he was sure. “I mean,” she managed, hands falling away, “It’s just… you’re always so happy whenever you’re in the news. And you came out to everyone and I think that’s really cool.” She cleared her throat. “I mean everyone knows you like boys and girls and you’re trans and…” she paused, biting her lip. “I’m sorry. Am I being offensive? God I’m so awkward.”

 

“Hey, it’s okay.” Dick reached out, settled his hand on her shoulder, gave it a little squeeze. “The truth doesn’t offend me. I did come out a long time ago for a reason. I know who I am.”

 

The girl nodded. “I came out to my grandma,” she admitted, glancing down. “But I can’t seem to, to my parents. They wouldn’t get it. But grandma’s cool. She understands.” She opened her jacket, and on the inside was a little pin, striped in pink, purple, and blue. “I told her I was bi and showed her the flag and she bought me this. Said to keep it close to my heart, to love who I am.”

 

Dick felt his chest tug. He squeezed her shoulder again. “It’s good advice,” he agreed. “And the time will come. You can’t force this- you do it when you’re ready. I was in the spotlight so much, it was bound to come out that I like everyone. And well…” he sighed. “You don’t get a lot of privacy growing up with Bruce Wayne. Even if everyone knew me as  _ Richard _ from the start, they were eventually going to find out.” He pulled his hand back. “But it doesn't bother me. I know who I am. And that’s what’s important- don’t forget that.”

 

The girl nodded, and the two turned towards the ladies, when Carla gave a loud  _ a-ha!  _ having found her keys finally. Dick walked with them towards the two cars parked next to each other.

 

“I never got to thank you all for the cookies,” he said, “they were  _ amazing _ . Slade even thought so, and he’s the one to tease me for liking sweets.”

 

All three smiled. “No one can deny a good cookie,” Carla said, “we’ll get that man of yours to leave you be on that.”

 

“If you think our cookies are good,” Macy said, opening her car door, “you should see what we can whip up in the kitchen for dinner. Carla makes a gumbo that could knock you on your ass.”

 

“Oh Macy,” Carla said, waving her off, “you’re not wrong.” She grinned, and Dick laughed.

 

“Careful, or I’ll invite myself over for dinner,” he teased. There was a round of laughter, but not a single opposition to it. “It was a pleasure to meet you ladies.”

 

“Oh the pleasure was all ours,” Belinda said, “you come back sometime! That table can fit five!”

 

Dick laughed, waving at them as he turned away. He gave one final smile to the teenage girl, who returned it, before he was heading off to his car, driving himself home.

 

*

 

He didn’t go out that night, chose to crawl into an empty bed instead. He didn’t sleep as well when Slade was gone, but snuggling up to one of his pillows, he managed. He was in the thick of it, lost in wordless dreams of simple color, when he felt a large hand on his bare back, sliding along his spine. He gave a little sigh, sliding his legs along the sheets, as a mouth pressed to the back of his neck.

 

“Little bird,” was whispered into his hair, and Dick mewling, eyes fluttering half open. The hand on his back slid up to his waist, curled at the curve of it and held tight, as the bed dipped, a knee being placed on it. The mouth on the back of his neck moved to the curve of his shoulder, and then his cheek.

 

“Slade?” he asked, voice thick was sleep. He shifted, rolling onto his back, staring up at the man. “What are you doing home?”

 

“I missed you,” Slade offered, brushing some of Dick’s hair back. It was subtle, tender, and Dick couldn’t stop himself from reaching up, gripping Slade’s hand so he could turn, kiss his palm.

 

“Thought I wouldn’t see you until tomorrow,” Dick mumbled, “or Saturday.”

 

“I didn’t want to wait,” Slade admitted, “I grabbed a flight as soon as I was done.” Dick sighed, still mouthing at Slade’s palm. Slade gave a little groan, as Dick’s mouth found his wrist. Dick let go, opened his arms, welcomed his boyfriend to lean over him, press an affectionate kiss to his mouth.

 

Dick sighed into it, wrapped his arms around Slade’s shoulders, holding onto his jacket. He had no idea what time it was, but the dark of the room was perfect, the kind of blanket he wanted so he could wrap himself up completely in Slade, immerse himself so he could recover from how badly he missed him.

 

Dick arched up as the kisses dragged on, languid and warm, the slow, wet sounds echoing around the room. Slade had crawled completely over him, and Dick curled a leg over the backs of his thighs, keeping him close. “Show me how much you missed me,” he mumbled, against Slade’s mouth.

 

“It’s late, little bird,” Slade whispered, pulling from his mouth to nuzzle his hair, kiss his temple. “Go back to sleep. There’s time in the morning.”

 

“Don’t wanna wait,” Dick mumbled, turning to catch Slade’s mouth again. He rolled his hips to emphasize, loved when his boyfriend groaned around his tongue. Dick pushed at his jacket, let his leg ease down to rest on Slade’s shins when his boyfriend pushed up, tugged it off and tossed it away. Dick sat up, worked at Slade’s belt, the fly of his jeans, as Slade tore off his own tshirt.

 

Dick pressed his mouth to Slade’s ribs, found an old scar that had never healed. He ran his tongue along it, before he simply nuzzled the heavy muscle of his chest, his soft chest hair, sighing into him and wanting to never leave.

 

“Lay back,” Slade whispered, fingers carding through Dick’s hair. “Let me make you feel good.”

 

Most nights Dick would have fallen back, been more than ready to lose himself. But tonight he was shaking his head, glancing up with heavy lashes and dark eyes. “Don’t wanna wait,” he repeated, and Slade stared down at him. There was a moment where Dick thought he was going to protest- where he was going to insist he take care of Dick first, because  _ god _ the man lived for making sure Dick felt good.

 

But as if he read Dick’s pretty eyes, Slade simply nodded. Dick fell back then, untangled so Slade could climb off the bed. Dick wriggled out of his briefs, the only clothing he’d worn to bed, as Slade finished undressing. Dick didn’t turn his head, but heard the sound of the nightstand, the tear of foil. He squirmed back a little more into the pillows, before Slade climbed back onto the bed. He crawled between Dick’s legs, who opened them wider, reaching for his boyfriend. His hands skimmed Slade’s cheeks, then back into his hair, working his ponytail free, as Slade placed a hand one his hip, easing him closer, holding him steady.

 

Dick tossed the elastic hair tie towards the floor, and a moment later Slade was slowly easing his way into him. Dick tipped his head back, exhaling, fingers easing through Slade’s long hair still, until his boyfriend was seated completely inside him. Slade bent over, kissed Dick’s cheek, his jaw, his neck, as Dick moaned low in his throat, eyes falling half shut.

 

He didn’t have to say a word. Slade’s thrusts were slow, deep, the kind of rhythm that stoked the fiery embers in Dick’s belly. He kept toying with his hair, wrapping it around his fingers, shivering as Slade peppered his neck with affectionate kisses. “Slade,” he whispered, before the man was moving back to his mouth. Dick eased his fingers from his hair, chose to wrap his arms around him, cling to his bare back as Slade kissed him slowly.

 

Everything about this was slow, was warm. His mouth and his thrusts and the way Dick felt fluttery in his belly. He whimpered, clung tighter to Slade. Carefully, Dick got his legs around him, allowed Slade to thrust even deeper inside him. Each slow thrust was punctuated by Dick grinding for a moment into Slade's pelvis, getting friction for a brief second, on his clit.

 

“Little bird,” Slade whispered, into Dick’s mouth, “ _ Dick _ .” His name made Dick want to cry, and it was only when he felt a prickle of wetness at the corners of his closed eyes that he realized he almost was. But it was so good, so perfect wrapped up in Slade like this, after missing him. So  _ immaculate _ because this pulled at Dick’s heart more than anything else.

 

He loved their desperate, needy fucks- but Dick would always cherish the slow moments where Slade made love to him.

 

“Love you,” Dick mumbled into the kiss. “God I love you so much.” He clutched tighter, wanted to embed himself inside his man’s bones, as Slade groaned. Dick shivered, felt his belly tightening, releasing, over and over again, so close despite how gentle this was.

 

Or because of it.

 

“I love you too,” Slade whispered, against Dick’s mouth. “So.” A kiss. “ _ Much _ .” Another, and Dick was clutching onto him like he was going to fall off the face of the earth, shuddering as he came suddenly. It wracked him, his body dragging Slade in deep, holding him. Dick whined, and Slade groaned, his hips stuttering and god, he was coming too.

 

Dick swore it dragged on endlessly. Even as he melted back into the pillows, the kiss finally ending, panting for breath, he swore he could feel it in his muscles and bones. Slade stared down at him, and in the dark smiled, had Dick’s heart beating up into his throat.

 

He bent down, placed a single kiss to Dick’s forehead, before he was pulling out, climbing off the bed. Dick smiled softly, rolling onto his side as Slade was tossing the condom in the waste basket.

 

“So really,” he said, voice tired. “What time is it?” Slade glanced back at him, before picking his phone up off the nightstand, bringing it to life.

 

“Almost five AM,” he admitted, and Dick balked.

 

“You… really took an overnight flight.”

 

“I took an afternoon flight and then drove about four and a half hours,” Slade said, “give or take.”

 

“ _ Slade _ .” Slade shook his head, silencing Dick, before he crawled back into the bed. Dick wriggled over into his arms, snuggling into his warm chest, as Slade rubbed his back.

 

“I couldn’t handle another night,” Slade admitted, and Dick’s toes curled. This side of him, it was  _ his _ , one so few people knew could exist. The fact that he was open and honest and weak, vulnerable, with Dick. That he trusted him.

 

“Good,” Dick mumbled, around a yawn. “I couldn’t either.” He closed his eyes, tangling their legs together, as Slade continued to rub his back. And then, because he was tired, because he didn’t want to sleep  _ just yet _ , wanted a few more minutes of consciously being snuggled into his lover. “I went to bingo tonight.”

 

“Oh?”

 

Dick didn’t lift his head. “Yeah. I met your friends.” He yawned again. “I like ‘em. They want me to come with you.” Slade chuckled over that, a little raspy, and Dick pushed closer. “They think you work with Bruce.”

 

The chuckle abruptly stopped. “ _ What _ ?”

 

Dick frowned, pushed back enough to open his eyes, look up at Slade. “They might have come up with this idea that you work with Bruce and that’s how we met. A good old scandal. I couldn’t exactly… tell them the truth.” He shrugged a shoulder.

 

Slade groaned, squeezing his eye shut. “Great.”

 

“There are worse things. He’s not  _ that _ bad.”

 

“We disagree there.”

 

Dick huffed. He reached up, carefully working Slade’s patch, pushing it up and off, easing it from his hair. He tossed it away, before he was snuggling back into his chest. “We can fight in the morning,” Dick said, “over breakfast, okay?”

 

“It’s a date,” Slade said, wrapping his arms securely around Dick. Dick smiled to himself, said no more on it, finally letting himself drift back into slumber.

 

*

 

Breakfast came and went - it was more like lunch -  without a fight, just as Dick had expected it to. He knew that Slade wasn’t actually upset with him; it wasn’t like he could actually tell a group of three sweet old ladies that their new friend was out assassinating another man for money. And Dick was lying if he said he didn’t think their misunderstanding was kind of hilarious. 

 

A cup of much needed coffee in hand, and Dick was downstairs getting the mail he had neglected picking up from the box downstairs for the past few days. He was standing in the elevator, leafing through the envelopes when one caught his eye just as the doors slip open in front of him. 

 

It was a pink envelope, pale and almost dusty. Addressed to  _ Mr. and Mr. Wilson.  _

 

Bemused, Dick cracked open their apartment door and pushed his way inside with his hip while simultaneously taking a sip of coffee. 

 

“Hey, uh, Slade…?” Dick called into the apartment. He could hear Slade in the bathroom, finishing off a shower. 

 

“What’s up, pretty bird?” 

 

Dick flushed under the endearment and replied. “I think you have some mail.” 

 

Slade came out of the bathroom, towel around his waist and toothbrush hanging out of his mouth. He wasn’t wearing his eyepatch yet, and Dick couldn’t help but admire the long healed over scar marring his face. He handed the envelope over to Slade and watched as his brow knit in confusion over the way it was addressed. 

 

“Mr. and Mr. Wilson, huh?” Dick asked, leaning against the hallway wall. “I kinda like how that sounds.” 

 

“Thought you didn’t wanna take my name, little wing.” 

 

“Still sounds nice.” Dick assented as Slade set to opening the envelope. Dick stood on his tiptoes to read over his shoulder, placing his hands on Slade’s back for balance. Slade didn’t stop him from looking as he tore the envelope open. 

 

Inside, was a small one page invitation to what looked to be a dinner party. Dick could barely read the scrawling handwriting on the page but he swore he made out  _ “because you need to marry that boy already!”  _

 

“Well?” Dick asked once Slade set down both the letter and his toothbrush. He waited until Slade spat in the sink for an answer. 

 

“Carla’s having a dinner party on Saturday.” he answered. 

 

“Oh! You should go!” 

 

“You’re invited, too.” Slade grumbled, and Dick swore he could see the older man’s cheeks getting pink.

 

“I would love to come if you want me to, baby.” Dick said, kissing gently at Slade’s jaw. 

  
Slade wrapped an arm against Dick’s back, around his hips. “Yes, I do.”


	5. Chapter 5

Saturday night found Dick and Slade standing on the well-kept porch of a small ranch house. Slade was wearing a v-neck a few bottles and stones on chains from Dick hanging against the bit of his chest that peeked out, and Dick was wearing a button down. Slade held a bottle of wine in his hands while Dick was holding a small bouquet of flowers consisting of mostly lavender. Slade reached out and rang the doorbell, and within moments, Carla had opened the door was ushering them in. 

 

“Hello, hello, dears! Come in! Everyone’s already here.”

 

“Everyone?” Slade asked, handing the bottle of wine off with a kiss to Carla’s cheek. 

 

“Just the ladies, not  _ everyone, _ ” she turned to Dick. “I’m afraid this isn’t going to be a dinner party like one you’re used to.” 

 

Dick laughed, and it was easy. “Don’t worry, I prefer it not to be.” 

 

Carla patted him on the shoulder and guided them to the kitchen. “Dinner’s almost finished, but if you want to go have a seat in the living room, there’s some snacks out there!” She took the small bouquet from Dick and placed them in an empty vase that she pulled from the cupboard. “Let’s bring the wine!” 

 

Dick and Slade followed behind Carla, Slade keeping a hand on the small of Dick’s back. They sat down on a plush couch with outdated upholstery and Slade placed his hand on Dick’s thigh as they were greeted by the other ladies. 

 

“It’s so good to see you both again!” Belinda said with a huge smile. It was contagious. Carla took the bottle of wine from Slade and placed it on the table before sitting down herself. 

 

“How as the drive over?” Macy asked and she seemed genuinely curious. Dick smiled at her sincerity. 

 

“It was perfect.” Dick answered. “We hardly hit any traffic.” 

 

“Well, let’s open that bottle, I don’t know what we’re waiting for.” Belinda announced, reaching for both the bottle and the wine opener on the coffee table. In her haste, she almost knocked over a small bowl of butterscotch candies. Dick caught the bowl, reflexes quick, the shiny yellow cellophane crinkling from the upset. “Oh, thank you sweetie.” 

 

“No problem,” Dick laughed. He placed the bowl back on the table and helped Belinda pour. 

 

Soon, they all had glasses, Carla and Dick only half, and were drinking happily, sharing conversation. Dick noticed how quickly these old women felt the affects of the wine, and thought to himself that it was adorable.

 

“We missed you at Bingo this week, Slade! Everyone wondered where you were!” Carla said. 

 

“Oh, I’m sure you guys got along fine without me.” 

 

“It was a good thing Dick showed up.” Macy said. 

 

“Ah, I see, I’m getting replaced, am I?” 

 

“Well,  _ you  _ don’t treat the whole table to games like your boy does.” Carla answered. 

 

Dick smiled at that. “You’re gonna have to up you game, I guess,” he shrugged, taking a sip of his wine as Slade fished his flask of whiskey from his pocket and took a sip. He offered it to Belinda and she took it happily, quickly taking a sip and handing it back. 

 

“We’re practically ignoring our guest over here!” She claimed and Slade laughed. “Dick, honey, let’s hear more about you! We’ve really only met the once.” 

 

“I’d be happy to get to know you lovely ladies more.” 

 

Everyone smiled at that. Slade rubbed his hand along Dick’s thigh. 

 

“Tell us more about yourself! What’s it like being trans?” Belinda asked eagerly and Macy’s face paled. 

 

“Belinda! Shit, you can’t just ask things like that!” 

 

“Macy, language, good gracious!” Carla interrupted. 

 

Slade’s hand tightened against Dick’s leg but Dick laughed and took another sip of wine. “No, it’s totally okay. I don’t mind answering questions if you have any.” 

 

“Sorry.” Belinda offered, sounding sheepish. “I didn’t mean any harm. I’m just genuinely curious.”

 

“I know. Don’t worry. I really don’t mind talking about it. It’s come up so much in the past, and I’m not afraid to talk about it. I’m proud of who I am.” 

 

“I see why Shannon likes you so much.” Macy intoned, and Dick blushed slightly under the praise.

 

“I’m not  _ that  _ great.” Dick answered. 

 

“Yes you are,” Slade responded quickly, catching Dick’s hand and bringing it up to his mouth. The ladies all cooed at the gesture. 

 

Dick rolled his eyes and addressed Belinda. “Is there something you want to ask?” 

 

“What was it like growing up?” Belinda asked, the question leaving her lips as soon as Dick stopped talking. “It seems like it was ages ago that I was young.” 

 

“It was.” Macy interjected. 

 

“ _ Anyway _ ,” Belinda pressed on. “I haven’t been young for a while, I barely remember what it was like. Was it much different for you?” 

 

Dick smiled. Belinda asked her question with such respect and curiosity, it was hard not to. “Well, I definitely didn’t have a conventional childhood by any standards. But, I told my parents I was a boy when I was five, and they listened to me. My mom even helped me pick out my name. Her grandfather was named Richard. And that was that. Then, when I lived with Bruce, he met me as Dick. And he helped me get the medicine and procedures I needed to be who I am. I’m very fortunate in that respect.” 

 

“That’s lovely. I’m glad to hear it.” Belinda said, folding her hands around her mostly empty wine glass. 

 

Before anyone else could say anything, a series of beeps sounded from the kitchen. Carla was up in a flash. “The food is done! Come sit at the table and I’ll bring it out!” 

 

Everyone followed Carla out of the room, the ladies sat down at the table and Dick and Slade went into the kitchen to help Carla bring out the food. Dick thought it smelled absolutely lovely. He hadn’t had a real home cooked meal since the last time he had gone to the manor for the night. Alfred was an amazing cook, but it was always nice to experience someone else’s cooking as well. 

 

Once everything was brought out and everyone was seated, Carla said a quick grace before she invited everyone to dig in. Once everyone’s plates were full, Dick finally dug into the wonderful smelling gumbo on his plate. 

 

“This.” He said, between one mouthful and another. “Is delicious.” 

 

“I’ll send the chef your compliments.” Carla winked. “Oh, this is just like having the kids over for dinner. It’s so nice.” 

 

“Thank you so much for inviting us.” Slade said, taking another bite himself. 

“Do you have any kids, Slade?” Macy asked. 

 

Dick froze in his chair, a bite halfway to his mouth. He watched from the corner of his eye as Slade collected himself slightly before answering. 

 

“I do, yeah. I have a daughter, Rose. She’s my youngest. And then there’s Joey, the middle. And…” Slade trailed off and Dick was ready to run interference for him. He knew how hard it was for Slade to talk about Grant, especially to have it brought up without warning. “And Grant. He was my oldest.” 

 

Slade averted his gaze as he said that, and Dick reached for his thigh under the table. 

 

“Oh, I would love to see pictures sometime!” Carla said, clapping her hands together. 

 

“I bet they’re beautiful.” Belinda agreed. 

  
“Well, they’re all adults now.” Slade said, and Dick swore he could hear the  _ almost all  _ hanging unsaid. He made sure to keep his hand firmly on Slade’s thigh for the rest of the meal, just as a small reassurance. 

 

“We have tea for after dinner, if anyone is interested.” Carla announced as everyone was finishing up their second or third helpings. 

 

Dick’s eyes lit up and he asked “What kinds?” 

 

“I’ve never seen a boy your age get so excited about tea!” 

 

Slade rolled his eye so hard, it could practically be heard. “Don’t get him started on tea, you’ll never get him to stop!” 

 

“Tea is important.” Dick protested. 

 

“What you drink isn’t tea, I swear it’s just grass sometimes.” 

 

“Magical grass.” Dick retorted. 

 

Macy laughed through her nose. “Now, you should ask Belinda what she knows about  _ magic grass. _ ”

 

“If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you fourteen times, it is a  _ perfectly legal  _ prescription.” 

 

“Whatever you tell yourself to sleep at night.” 

 

The rest of the conversation couldn’t be heard over Dick’s laughter. 

 

Soon, the night was over and Slade and Dick bid the women goodbye and thanked them for the lovely evening and delicious dinner. 

 

Once they were out in the car, and Slade had shut the passenger side door, Dick noticed the slight shake to his hands as he tried to light a cigarette. He failed a few times before it caught, and Dick could hear the tobacco and paper sizzle slightly as Slade took a deep inhale. 

“You alright,  _ draga _ ?” Dick asked, looking at Slade and not moving to start the car. 

 

“I’m okay, little bird. It’s just...strange to talk about him sometimes.” 

 

Dick put the keys in the ignition and Slade rolled down the window, exhaling more smoke out of it. 

 

*

 

Dick gave Slade his space, once they got home. He was trying to decide if he was going out that night or not- the night before had been quiet, and it  _ would _ be nice to have another night home with Slade, since he’d just gotten home himself- but Dick didn’t want to leave any of the other family members overworked.

 

He was typing out a text to Tim when he heard rummaging around, in the bedroom. Dick hit send quickly, before shoving his phone into his pocket, heading for the half open door. He curled his fingers around the edge, leaning his head in. “Slade?” he asked, shocked to find him at Dick’s altar.

 

Slade didn’t glance back, didn’t say anything, and Dick carefully pushed the door open, headed in. He walked over to his boyfriend, found Slade had a small, thick candle in his hand, his lighter in the other.

 

“Sorry,” Slade mumbled, flicking the lighter, but the flame didn’t catch. “I just…”

 

“It’s okay,” Dick offered, very carefully taking the lighter and the candle from Slade. “You don’t need to  _ ask _ . Can I?” Slade nodded, and Dick flicked the lighter. He watched the flame for a moment, before he lit the candle. He carefully set the thick, blue candle in it sholder on his altar, before he passed the lighter back to Slade, who tucked it away in his jacket, which he hadn’t even shed yet.

 

For a moment they stood there, in the dark of the bedroom, watching the little flame flicker. “I used to make sure there was a candle lit, on his birthday,” Slade whispered, watching each tiny movement of the fire. “Even had flowers. Wintergreen used to do it for me, when I was away… so Adeline wouldn’t have to see me.”

 

Dick reached out, rubbed his hand soothingly along Slade’s back. “Do you know what blue means?” he asked, and Slade shook his head. “Deep blue means healing,  _ forgiveness _ . You picked well.” He leaned closer, pressed his lips to Slade’s shoulder. “He loved you, Slade. You were his father.”

 

“I got him killed, Dick. There’s no love there.” Slade closed his eye, took a deep breath, and Dick continued to rub his back.

 

“Not intentionally. You  _ loved _ Grant. Still do. I don’t doubt that. He wouldn’t either. Joey and Rose don’t.”

 

“Adeline might say something different.”

 

“Well, you two  _ never _ agree.” Slade opened his eye, glanced over at Dick.

 

“Sorry,” he offered, and Dick shook his head. “No, really. We had a great dinner, and here I am… brooding. You get enough of that. And bringing up the  _ ex _ .”

 

“Hey, we’ve all got ‘em. I just get along with mine.”

 

“You didn’t  _ marry _ any of yours.”

 

“Well, no.” Dick wrapped his arms around Slade’s, hugged. “But I hope she didn’t completely scare you off the marriage idea. I mean,  _ Mr. and Mr. Wilson _ did have such a good ring.”

 

Slade laughed then, pulling his arm free so he could slide it around Dick. He leaned over, kissed his hair, before he was turning him away from the altar, heading for the bed. Dick walked with him, watching Slade climb up onto the bed. He stripped of his jacket, left it folded on the edge of the bed, was pulling his wallet out as Dick climbed onto the bed himself. Dick settled against his side, as Slade flipped the worn, black leather open, pulled faded photos from behind the folds.

 

Dick didn’t say a word. He knew they were there, he’d seen them before. He’d teased Slade that  _ no one _ kept pictures in their wallets now- that’s what phones were for- but his smile had been genuine, had been enough proof to Slade that Dick knew they were important. Little relics of times long gone, of  _ people _ long gone.

 

“He really does look like you,” Dick said, staring at the top picture. Grant with Joey, the two sitting out in the grass. Young still, with the ghost of Adeline hovering, half her body visible. “Always thought Joey had your ex’s eyes, her face- but Grant really is you.”

 

Slade didn’t say anything, slid to the next one. Joey,  _ a baby _ , and Dick wondered if he knew it was there. If he’d sign up a storm cursing out his father for carrying it around. Behind that was Grant, as a baby- and then Slade with  _ both _ his boys. Younger, smiling. A different man, a different life.

 

Dick pinched his lips shut, reached out and rubbed Slade’s chest, staying close, letting him revel in his nostalgia. Letting him miss his boys- letting him mourn. Dick knew it was something you never really stopped doing. He had plenty of moments where he  _ still _ mourned his parents.

 

Slade paused at the only picture of Rose, in the bunch. She was older than the boys were in most of their pictures- and Dick had never known where Slade had gotten it. If Lillian had had photos of Rose and Slade had found one, after his daughter had come into his life. But it was well worn like the rest, well loved.

 

Dick  _ knew _ Rose would curse Slade out for having it.

 

“Do you want me to stay home tonight?” Dick asked. “I don’t have to go on patrol. The city’s been quiet.”

 

Slade shook his head, stacking the pictures again. “No,” he said, before he cleared his throat, shoved them back in his wallet. “No, get some fresh air.” He turned, kissed Dick’s temple, before he untangled himself, stood from the bed. He dropped his wallet on the nightstand, heading for the bedroom door. “I’m going to get another drink.”

 

Dick didn’t argue, listened to Slade’s footsteps through the apartment, heading for the kitchen. Very carefully he got off the bed, pausing as at Slade’s nightstand. Dick reached out, pulled the top drawer open. It was more organized than his side, the half closer to the bed the more frequently used items- mainly, the half empty box of condoms which had Dick flushing, slightly. He ignored it, reached into the half by the door, all the way for the back.

 

Nestled in the dark was a little box. He pulled it free, flipped it open, looked at the faded, old gold band inside. He was fairly sure Slade didn’t know he had his old wedding band stowed away- but Dick didn’t  _ forget _ things like that. Slade had showed him, once, one of the first nights he’d opened up about everything. About the heavy guilt over Grant’s death, over what had happened to Joey, over not being there for Rose. He was no great father, but he  _ knew _ that and it tore at him, silently.

 

He’d said he’d kept it because it had been  _ simpler _ , for a while. Before everything. When Grant and Joey were small. When he and Adeline weren’t at each other’s throats. And he’d seemed so worried, like maybe Dick would be offended-

 

Dick held no ill will towards Slade’s ex wife- not for marrying him or loving him, anyway. Maybe he was  _ frustrated _ at times because he swore they antagonize each other, instead of letting each other simply move on, but they were getting  _ better _ . Mostly by simply staying completely out of contact.

 

He ran his thumb over the gold, before he clamped the box shut, slipping it back into place. A part of him had simply wanted to make sure it was still there- had a feeling Slade would be looking at it later. Wanted to make sure Slade hadn’t decided in some moment of false clarity that he didn’t need comfort items and gotten rid of it.

 

He closed the nightstand, headed out of the bedroom himself. Slade was standing in the kitchen, nursing a cup of whiskey. Silently, Dick walked up to him, kissed his cheek, and when Slade curled his arm around his waist, he settled in, a one arm hug pulling himself closer to Slade.

 

Dick didn’t have to say anything. He knew sometimes it was better if he just didn’t.

 

*

 

Slade never put the candle out. He let it burn, even after Dick left for patrol. He took his bottle of whiskey and set up on the bed again, pulled the pictures from his wallet and spread them out, studying all of them. As much as he wanted Dick’s comfort, sometimes he simply needed a moment to himself, with all of this.

 

He’d never get it back, he knew. The kids, their youth, their  _ smiles _ and innocence. It was gone. He’d made damn well sure of that, in his weaker moments. And he  _ hated _ himself for it. Hated that he hadn’t heard Joey laugh in so many goddamn years because he  _ couldn’t _ .

 

Hated that Grant couldn’t, either.

 

And god, the only one he could have tried to do right by, Rose- he’d lost his chance because he hadn’t been there. And when he  _ had _ been? What kind of father had he been? How had she  _ forgiven _ him- she’d lost her eye, he’d driven her to insanity, and she had come  _ back _ . Reluctantly, with enough punches to leave Slade’s jaw bruised, with enough venom in her words to leave him choking, but she had come nonetheless.

 

He didn’t deserve that.

 

He didn’t deserve any of it, or this. Any of the good he had. Any idea of normalcy should have been a lie. He was a killer, there was blood on his hands, phantomly caked under his nails that he could never scrub off-

 

And he used those same hands to touch something as good as  _ Dick Grayson _ .

 

Slade climbed off the bed, holding the whiskey bottle by the neck. He took a long drink, before he set it down, jerking open his dresser. Into the back, and he had the same box in his hands Dick had held, earlier. He opened it, took the ring out and stared down at it, before sliding it onto his finger. He flexed his hand, the weight foreign now. It had been so damn long.

 

Maybe it shouldn’t have been.

 

He picked up the whiskey, took another drink. His head was fuzzy but he needed that, right now. He didn’t want to be alone but he had to be- didn’t want to be with himself and yet  _ needed _ it.

 

He paused at Dick’s altar, looking at the stub of a candle remaining. Dick was too good to him, it was something he never pretend to not be aware of. Too good and pure and  _ perfect _ and god, Slade wasn’t sure what in his life he had done right enough to deserve this man.

 

He took another drink, before setting the bottle on the window sill. His thumb played over the ring on his finger again, and Dick’s voice was in his head, jokingly laughing over  _ Mr. and Mr. Wilson _ . Didn’t the boy deserve that? Didn’t he deserve Slade  _ proving _ how devoted he was?

 

Slade had sworn, after his divorce with Adeline, never again. Marriage wasn’t worth it- it was a mess of paperwork and too much emotion, too many ties. He didn’t need it. And yet he felt like an ass for withholding it from Dick.

 

“Maybe it’s for the better,” he mumbled, still watching the flame. Dick was  _ young _ , he had so much life ahead of him. He could find someone more  _ suitable _ to settle down with-

 

Slade groaned, reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose.  _ No. _ No, he wouldn’t entertain those thoughts. Because he had, in the past. He had and Dick had proven time and time again how much he loved Slade, wanted him, chose him over everyone else. That he was happy and had no desire to ever be away from him. And Slade refused to doubt his boy.

 

He lifted his hand, looked at his ring again, before he carefully pulled it off his finger. He closed his hand around it, turning his stare back to the flame. “What do you think, Grant?” he asked, as if his son’s very soul was flitting about life in that dying flame. “Think I was wrong? Think I should marry that boy?”

 

Slade watched the flame shift, and for a moment it looked as if it was finally going to burn out. It began to dim, the wick glowing, before it suddenly flared back in a final, renewed burst. He felt his lips curling, couldn’t help but smile.

  
“That’s my boy,” he offered, and the words hurt his throat. “That’s my boy.”


	6. Chapter 6

“There’s our fourth,” Belinda said with a grin as Slade walked towards the table. He pulled his chair out, settling down s she reached over, gave his arm a friendly pat. “You have a nice week with that darling boy of yours?”

 

“I did,” Slade said, giving a nod to all the ladies. “He’s been a bit busy though, late nights for work.” Or, more correctly, The Riddler had gotten himself  _ out _ of Arkham and Dick had been pulling all nighters with the family to try and get him back  _ in _ . He was asleep through most of the day, when he wasn’t doing more work.

 

“At least he’s young and can handle it.”

 

“I do hope the two of you will join us for dinner again,” Carla said, straightening her board out. “It’s so nice to see younger faces in the house. My kids have families and kids of their own- and the grandkids are never around enough.”

 

“I’m pretty sure Dick would  _ walk _ to your house for your cooking,” Slade pointed out.

 

Carla laughed, reaching up to cover her mouth, rosy pink rising on her dark cheeks. “That boy of yours is a doll. I can’t imagine how you let him walk around without a ring on his finger.” At that Belinda elbowed Slade, giving him a cocky grin, and he shook his head.

 

“I’m too old to go through that again,” he said, before adding, “or I thought I was.” The three ladies perked up, but before they could push Slade further, the microphone was crackling and the first game was beginning.

 

Slade figured it had to be the first time they were actually hoping the games would go quickly. They kept shooting him glances, quite obviously wanting to pry. He simply hummed to himself, lost all four of the games as he fully expected to.

 

For once, there wasn’t a single complaint about the losses during the break. Instead it was Macy, breaking the silence, leaning on the table and peering around Belinda, “Are you going to ask that boy to marry you or not? You can’t leave us in suspense! Some of us have weak hearts!”

 

“Your heart is stronger than a bull’s,” Carla said, waving her off, “don’t be so dramatic. But,” she turned her stare to Slade, “you had best not keep us in suspense if you want a dinner like you got last weekend.”

 

Slade chuckled over that. “You drive a hard bargain.” He leaned his arms onto the table, folded his hands. “I guess I’m… entertaining the idea.”

 

“You don’t think he’d refuse, right?” Belinda asked. “Why, he looked so  _ smitten  _ with you!”

 

“Maybe he should say no,” Slade said, softer. “He’s young and has the world at his fingertips. Maybe-”

 

“If I hear you say  _ I’m too old _ I will never bring you another cookie again,” Macy said, giving Slade the kind of stern glare he knew any grandmother gave. “If he thought that he would have been done with you by now. You said it’s been nearly three years, right?” Slade nodded. “Slade,  _ honey _ , that’s a relationship, that’s a commitment- that is  _ not _ a little hanky-panky fling.”

 

Slade fought the urge to bark out a laugh over that, because she  _ meant _ well and he knew she was right. “You’re right,” he conceded. “Dick knows what he wants.” The ladies  _ giggled _ , and Slade actually felt his cheeks flush. “I didn’t mean  _ that _ ,” he said, even though that was definitely true as well. Slade shifted, reached for his wallet, pulled it out. The room was still shuffling about, and he figured he had enough time to say what he felt he needed to say. What he hadn’t been able to, at dinner. He pulled a few pictures out, fanning them out on the table. “You said you wanted to see my kids.” The ladies all peered closer, as Slade pushed the photos towards them. “That’s Joey,” he said, pointing to him in a few photos, “my youngest boy.”

 

“What a smile on him,” Carla said, sounding a bit awe struck.

 

“He’s got his mother’s smile,” he admitted. “He used to have such a good laugh. But… he can’t now.” Slade took a slow breath. “There was… an incident. He’s mute now. He’s got the scar to prove it- and I wasn’t enough to save him.” Before the ladies could say anything, Slade pointed to the single photo of Rose. “My youngest, Rose. I wasn’t there for her. I didn’t even  _ know _ about her for so long- and I was not the father she needed or deserved when I did. And…” Slade paused, his fingertips touching the top of a photo of Grant. “This is Grant. My oldest. I lost him, years ago. He died, and I…” Slade swallowed. His throat felt tight, his chest heavy. “I’ll carry that forever.”

 

He couldn’t be as open as he wanted to be, couldn’t show these women the awful man he had been. There were parts of his life that had to forever be a secret- if only because  _ Dick _ still needed the security, in his identity.

 

“My kids have forgiven me,” Slade continued, “but I just… don’t know if I’m the man Dick  _ deserves _ .”

 

The ladies were all quiet for a moment, before Belinda leaned over, this time simply resting her hand on Slade’s forearm. “I think,” she said, “the only one who can decide what Dick deserves is him, sugar.”

 

“Belinda’s right,” Carla pointed out, “it’s Dick’s choice. And honey, he has clearly made it. And this,” she gestured at the photos, “what you’re showing us? Are glimpses of some kids that had some good memories. No one’s life is all sugar. We’ve all had plenty of shit go wrong. At least you’ve realized what you’ve done- at least you’re sorry.”

 

“And you’re quite obviously better now,” Macy pointed out. “We wouldn’t like you if you weren’t. Trust me, we have some good judgement of character. We’ve been around long enough to learn to read people.”

 

Slade nodded, heard the shuffling around the calming. He gathered up his pictures, as the ladies settled into silence. But he didn’t need them to speak more- what they had said, it had been enough. He just needed someone on the outside to look at him, to  _ judge _ him fit for Dick. To judge him fit for the happiness that was within his grasp, already tangled around his fingers.

 

He needed someone else to tell him he was worth forgiveness. That redemption wasn’t just a dream.

 

*

 

Slade heard the window from where he was settled, on the couch. He closed the book he’d been reading, pushed himself up and headed for the bedroom. Opening the door revealed Dick, pulling the window shut, slumped over. He turned. Brows raising as his eyes widened behind his mask.

 

“What are you doing up?” he asked, as Slade walked towards him. “It’s like, almost four AM.”

 

“I wanted to make sure you got home alright.” He reached up, very carefully peeled Dick’s mask off his face. He set it aside, slid his fingers back through Dick’s hair, watched his eyelids flutter. Slade leaned in, kissed his forehead. “How did the night go?”

 

“Same as the rest have,” Dick admitted, “chased clues around all night just to feel like someone’s laughing at me one the other side of a window.” He lifted his head, winced as his neck pulled. “I’m sore all over. Pretty sure I pulled damn near everything.”

 

Slade hummed, let his hands fall from Dick’s hair. “I can help with that,” he offered. “Get out of that suit and into bed, I’ll work the tension out.”

 

Dick smiled, weary and pretty. “Thought I was the one good with my fingers,” he teased, as he pulled his gloves off. “You never complain when I…” he trailed off, quirked his brows and curled his fingers.

 

Slade huffed, reaching up to ruffle his hair. “Less talking, more stripping Grayson.”

 

“Yes’sir.” Slade stepped away, heading for the bed, as Dick began the work of disassembling his suit. Slade pulled the blankets down against the sounds of various pieces of weaponry and armory hitting the floor, before Dick was finally walking over and- god bless him- he had taken  _ everything _ off. “I probably need a shower,” Dick said, and Slade waved him off.

 

“If I hated your sweat so much you would know.” Dick snorted a laugh, so unbecoming and yet so  _ endearing _ , before he crawled onto the bed. He stretched out on his belly, turned his cheek to rest it on Slade’s pillow, taking a deep breath as his boyfriend climbed up onto the bed, straddled the backs of his thighs. He leaned over him, got his hands on Dick’s shoulders and kneaded the tense muscle. Dick groaned, the sound ending in a gasp as it  _ hurt _ , the pressure, before it turned into relief.

 

“Jesus,” Dick mumbled, as Slade worked the knots on the back of his neck. Slade said nothing, watching the dark skin move beneath his hands, enjoying the heat Dick radiated beneath him. He slid forward, pushing against Dick’s ass as he tried to get a better grip, and the little hiccuped breath Dick gave was anything but  _ relief _ .

 

“Sorry little bird,” Slade mumbled, his hands beginning to work down Dick’s back. “That’s not my intention.”

 

“Bullshit,” Dick said through clenched teeth, before arching and pressing his ass back up against Slade. “Don’t act like your intentions are pure.”

 

Slade sighed above him. “They can’t be  _ pure  _ when you do things like  _ that. _ ”

 

“Well, maybe I don’t want them to be.” Dick practically purred, rolling his body again. “Maybe I  _ want you.”  _

 

“Only maybe?” Slade asked, pretending to pull away. “Well, I guess we can go to bed then…” 

 

“Don’t you fucking  _ dare _ , Slade.” Dick demanded, somehow turning around beneath Slade and catching his wrists before he could pull away entirely. 

 

Slade leaned down, a lock of his untied hair hanging over his shoulder and tickling against Dick’s skin. Dick squirmed, panted, and Slade leaned forward to press a kiss to his lips, gently, reverently. Dick’s grip loosened and Slade look the opportunity to shift his grip, to hold Dick’s wrists in his hands and hoist them over his head, press them into the mattress. He deepened the kiss, ran his tongue along Dick’s bottom lip and inside when he opened his mouth in a moan that Slade swallowed. He shifted them both slightly, making sure Dick was situated comfortably on the mountain of pillows piled at their headboard. 

 

“Just relax, baby bird.” Slade whispered. “Let me take care of you.” 

 

Dick gasped when Slade’s mouth left his and instead settled in the dip of his collarbone. Slade loved the taste of Dick’s very skin like this, after a long night crouching on dark rooftops, of running across crushed glass in the alleyways. Slade  _ adored  _ the way the salty tang of sweat clung to Dick’s dark skin, wished that he could be absorbed into his very bones so he could taste it all the time. It was truly a treat to catch Dick like this, before he washed all the work he had done for the night off of his body. 

 

Dick stretched his neck, allowing Slade more access, before Slade mouthed his way to Dick’s chest. His hands were still holding onto Dick’s wrists and he could feel Dick’s hands twitched, probably dying to get them tangled in his hair. Slade hummed against one of Dick’s nipples and he felt the shiver that reverberated through his body in the placed his teeth were rooted to his gums. He flicked out his tongue, running it slowly along the sensitive bud and Dick was whining above him. Slade prided himself on always knowing just how to tease his boy. 

 

He moved a hand off of one of Dick’s wrists, and he immediately reached forward to bury his fingers in Slade’s now wild hair. He chuckled, deep in his throat, before toying with Dick’s nipple with his thumb. He dipped down and gently kissed across the now faded scars under his pecs. He closed his eyes when Dick tugged on his hair, still leaving a trail of kisses. He knew the curvature of these scars by heart. 

 

He let his lips travel down to Dick’s navel, feeling the raised skin of other old scars, ones that he knew less well than the ones on his chest, but that he knew all the same. There was always something unbelievably intimate about kissing Dick’s scars, about allowing his lips to feel their texture, his tongue to glide carefully over them. It was one thing to kiss the man’s lips, and something else entirely to kiss the dark skin that he kept hidden away. It was something that lit a fire within his veins, and kept his blood smouldering with the memory of it when the moment passed. 

 

Slade moved both his hands to rub down Dick’s sides, rubbing circles into his skin with both thumbs. Dick squirmed into the touch, dragging his blunt nails down Slade’s back. Slade moaned, the noise getting caught in his chest as he bit down teasingly on a hipbone. He slid his hands to the expanse of Dick’s thighs, rubbing out the muscles there as well. Dick relaxed almost immediately, parting his thighs as Slade moved to massage the slightly darker skin on the inside of them. Slade kissed the slight swell of Dick’s belly before nosing against his pubic hair. 

 

Dick laughed above him and bucked his hips forward slightly. Instead of rising to the bait, Slade kissed down the inside of one of Dick’s thighs, eliciting another delicious shiver.  Dick was hardly ever still, and Slade loved how much he moved during sex, during the times he spent long and agonizing moments teasing. It was almost like his body was moving of its own accord, simply  _ needing  _ Slade and being helpless to do anything but seek him out. 

 

Dick spread his thighs even further, hips popping just slightly, both of his knees pressing into either side of the mattress. Slade’s hair trailed across Dick’s stomach as he kissed the inside of his knee, and back up to the apex of his thighs before ghosting over his cunt and working down the other leg. Dick squirmed again, panting and whining when Slade ran his hand along his lips. Dick clutched at Slade’s shoulders, getting his fingers tangled in long, white hair. 

 

“Sl- _ ade.”  _ He gasped, twisting his hips, begging for friction.  _ “Please.” _

 

Slade hummed. “Little bird, I can’t help it. I just love every inch of you.” 

 

Dick groaned, reaching for Slade’s wrist and pressing his hand into his pussy. “Show me what part you love  _ most.”  _

 

And Slade couldn’t say no to that. 

 

He sat up a bit, bracing himself against one hand while the other pressed into the wet heat at the juncture of Dick’s long legs. Dick gasped as Slade rubbed slowly, up and down, barely grazing against his clit at all. 

 

“Fuck, Slade,  _ please. _ ” Dick mewled, moving his hips again and trying to establish a rhythm. 

 

Slade gave in and moved his fingers in a quick circle around the hood of Dick’s clit before repeating the motion and pressing down slightly. Dick cried out, and Slade felt him get wetter. 

 

“Baby, you get so worked up for me.” Slade mumbled, removing his hand and groaning around his fingers as he licked Dick from them, sinking them into his mouth. “You taste so sweet.” 

 

Before Dick could beg again, Slade was shifting their position, sliding Dick up the bed slightly. Slade smirked at the keening noise Dick made as he spread him open and ran his tongue along him. Dick immediately worked his hips up, causing Slade to come ever closer. He had barely done a thing and Dick was already coiled tight, grasping at his back and hair and the bedsheets seemingly all at once. 

 

Slade could feel Dick’s juices running down his chin and he was sure Dick’s skin was prickling in the places his beard was rubbing it raw. He was alsos sure that neither of them cared at the moment. Slade was lost in the taste of Dick, enjoying it with an animal-like fierceness settled in his belly, loving the way his sweat mingled with the taste of Dick’s pussy, something so unique and so  _ Dick  _ that all he wanted to do was worship between his legs for the rest of his life. 

 

As Dick worked closer and closer to orgasm, Slade found himself reflecting on just how much he loved Dick, and how much he truly wanted to spend the rest of the days he had with him. He knew he just wanted to keep waking up next to him, keep doing right enough by him to keep him there. 

 

Slade flicked his tongue over the slick bud of Dick’s clit - once, twice - and he knew Dick was getting close. Slade knew that he could prolong it, that he could make Dick wait for the sweet release of orgasm, but he wanted the gratification of Dick tightening his thighs against his rough cheeks as quickly as he could. One more swipe of his tongue was all it took, and Dick was shouting out his name.

 

Slade continued to kiss and suck at Dick’s clit as he came. He buried his face even further into Dick’s pussy, wanting to be one with the heat. He moaned against the taste when Dick’s thighs snapped shut around him and Slade stilled. He stayed unmoving, letting Dick ride out the first few aftershocks before moving and wiping his chin on the back of his wrist. 

 

He moved to gather Dick in his arms. He gladly clamoured into Slade’s embrace, eyes still wild and bleary. They sat in silence punctuated only by heavy breaths beginning to even out. Slade rubbed his hand down Dick’s back and played with the hair that tickled against his neck. It was getting kind of long, he noted. As Dick’s breathing evened out, Slade’s mind strayed again to the future he wanted to have with Dick. 

 

Ever since listening to the ladies talk at bingo tonight, he couldn’t seem to get the thought out of his head. Dick deserved to have the commitment he wanted to give him, deserved to marry Slade if that was what he wanted. And Slade realized he would never know if he didn’t  _ ask.  _

 

Maybe he would say no. But maybe he  _ wouldn’t.  _

 

Maybe Slade should think about this more tomorrow, when the sun was out and his mind wasn’t clouded by the maddening taste of Dick’s cunt on his tongue. His mind was still buzzing around these thoughts when Dick stirred. “You okay, little bird?” 

 

“ _ Mmhm,”  _ Dick mumbled into Slade’s chest. “Just gotta pee before I can sleep.” 

 

Slade laughed at Dick’s bluntness before he moved his arms to allow Dick out of the bed. Dick pressed a kiss to Slade’s chin, missing his lips almost completely, before getting up and padding across the room. Slade rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling, waiting for Dick’s return, still thinking a thousand thoughts a second. 

 

He wished he had a ring right  _ now.  _ He didn’t trust himself to follow through in the morning, even though whatever god there was knew how badly he wanted to. A part of him, the burning embers inside of him, knew that  _ this  _ was the moment. 

 

Suddenly, it was now or never and Slade threw himself from the bed, rummaging around in his bedside table, reaching around into the back corner and fishing out the small square box situated there. He opened the box and the ring inside glinted in the dim light. He heard Dick opening the drawers in the bathroom and then the sink running. He was brushing his teeth. 

 

Slade took a deep breath, looking at the ring in front of him. Was this a good idea? What was the protocol for proposing to the person you’ve loved the most intensely in your life? Slade figured giving him a ring from a previous marriage probably wasn’t the standard procedure, but what else about their relationship was standard? 

 

Slade heard the water shut off and knew Dick would be opening the door soon. Anxiety seized him and he almost threw the ring back into the drawer and laid back in bed like nothing had happened. But he heard Carla telling him that he should do exactly what he was doing. And she was much wiser than he. 

 

Right? 

 

Regardless, Slade made his decision and got down on the floor next to the bed, the hardwood creaking slightly. He rested one knee against the ground and held the box poised open in front of him. 

 

Slade swore he had never seen a door open slower in his life. His heart was beating louder than he could ever remember. He knew this moment was going to make or break the future he had been working so hard toward achieving. 

When Dick caught sight of Slade kneeling in on the floor in front of him, he stopped short. “Slade?”

 

“Dick...this isn’t,” Slade started, swallowing, staring at Dick’s shins in front of him from his place on the floor. “This isn’t how I imagined this happening. This...I thought I would  _ only  _ imagine this happening. And you deserve a real ring, something that represents you and I and  _ us,  _ but for right now, in this moment, I want you to have this. If you’ll take it. If you’ll take me.” Slade took a steadying breath, even though he could swear that all the air was gone from the room. “I love you with every piece of myself, especially the parts that you showed me were there. You’ve taught me so much about being a better person. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, growing old and learning from each other every step of the way. Dick Grayson. Will you marry me?”

 

*

 

Dick sighed, burying himself deeper in the warmth around him. The blankets were piled over he and Slade, his lover’s arms tightly around him. Dick nuzzled his chest, eyes fluttering open, before dropping shut again. He smiled to himself, let his hand rub along Slade’s side, under the blankets. The man stirred, mumbled something, and Dick rubbed his foot along his calf, before draping his leg up over Slade’s.

 

“You can’t get much closer,” Slade mumbled, and Dick tipped his head back, opened his eyes properly this time and smiled, noticed Slade had opened his good eye.

 

“I can try,” Dick offered. Slade huffed a chuckle, before he was suddenly rolling them over. Beneath the blankets Dick flopped to his bag, legs open as Slade fit perfectly between them, pinning him to the bed. Dick laughed, as Slade’s hair fell down like a veil around their faces, tickled Dick’s shoulders. “This is compromising,” Dick mused, rocking his hips up- and there was no denying that Slade was hard, in his pajama pants.

 

“Only because I just woke up,” Slade retorted, and Dick rolled his eyes.

 

“Are you really trying to say you’re not hard anytime you’re in bed with me?” Slade didn’t answer, and Dick flashed a smile. “Careful  _ Mr. Wilson _ , you might crush a man’s confidence.”

 

“Not possible with you, Grayson. Besides,” he leaned down, pecked Dick’s cheek affectionately. “I’ve proven how under my skin you are, little bird.”

 

Dick grinned at that- and despite not  _ wanting _ Slade to get off him, didn’t stop the man was he pushed himself up. He shoved the blankets back, stood up, and Dick didn’t try to stop him as he made his way across the room, heading for the hallway.

 

When he was gone, Dick rolled over onto his side, towards the edge of the bed. The ring from the night before was sitting on Slade’s nightstand- too large for Dick to actually wear. Slade’s fingers had always been a bit bigger than his. He reached for it, fingertips sliding along the smooth wood until he had it trapped. He pulled it back to him, rolled onto his back and slipped it onto his ring finger anyway.

 

He held his hand up above him, looked at it. And he didn’t  _ care _ that when Slade had worn it himself, it had been a sign of his devotion to Adeline. He didn’t care, because it was  _ his _ now- he would take it, refashion it to become something new, to  _ mean _ something new.

 

He lay there for another moment, before slowly sitting up. He walked across the bedroom, rummaged around in his dresser to find his sweatpants and a tank top. And then, heading over to his altar, he settled down on his knees. He reached beneath the decorative cloth that covered it, pulled a box from beneath and flipped it open. His fingers slid along empty bottles, before he was plucking free a chain, from the small empty bottle pendants stowed away. He pulled the ring from his finger, slid it onto the chain, and then carefully fastened it around his neck. It fell down past his collar bone, rested against dark skin just above the collar of his tank top.

 

Dick smiled, liked the feeling of the worn gold against his warm skin. He returned the box to its home, before he stood up, padding in his bare feet out of the bedroom. The moment he did he could smell whatever Slade had started cooking in the kitchen, and licked his lips as he headed straight for it.

 

“So let me get this straight,” Dick said, entering the room and watching Slade dump a handful of some sort of vegetable he’d been chopping into a pan. “You eat my pussy, propose, and then you make me breakfast to stop it off?” He walked over when Slade didn’t turn around, as the man was mixing the vegetables in with the eggs already in the pan. “You’re killing me.”

 

“I’d hate to do that,” Slade offered, glancing back as Dick wrapped his arms around his waist, pressed his cheek to his bicep. “And nothing is ever straight with you, Grayson.”

 

Dick laughed, pressing his face into Slade’s arm to stifle it. His boyfriend-  _ fiance _ \- chuckled, before he was squirming free of Dick’s arms, dropping the spatula he’d been holding on the counter. Dick stared up at him, as Slade’s eye caught the ring around his neck. He reached out, pressed his hand flat to Dick’s chest, let his thumb rub the metal against Dick’s skin.

 

Dick sighed. “I want to wear it,” he said, “is it too cliche?”

 

“Depends- how horrible am I for giving you my wedding band from my  _ last _ marriage?” Dick just smiled, and Slade leaned in, kissed his forehead. “I’ll get you a real one, little bird.”

 

“And I’ll still wear this,” Dick said, as Slade straightened back up. “Doesn’t matter what it used to mean- nothing that  _ used to be _ matters with us, Slade. The fact that we’re standing in  _ our _ kitchen having this conversation proves that.” He reached up, covered Slade’s hand on his chest. “Baby I  _ love _ you. I think I did before we could have ever been something- but now? I love you more than I knew I even could.” He squeezed Slade’s hand. “You give me a ring and I’ll wear it. I get a little weak thinking about us with weddings bands. But this?” He pressed Slade’s thumb harder to the ring. “This seems perfect for us. Because we’re so much more than what we started out as- so much more than anyone thought we ever would be.”

 

Slade’s other arm caught Dick’s waist, pulled him in close. Before Dick could say more, Slade’s mouth was pressing to his. The kiss was sweet, soft,  _ loving _ in every way that made Dick shiver down to his toes. He sighed into it, smiled, and felt Slade’s mouth curving too.

 

“I love you too, Dick,” he mumbled, into his mouth, “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

 

“Simple,” Dick offered, still close to Slade’s mouth. “You were always a better man than the world gave you credit for. And I’m here to make up for that.” Dick reached up with his free hand, tugged Slade back in by his hair, gave him another kiss. And Dick didn’t want to  _ stop _ , until Slade pulled away, chuckling.

 

“I’ll burn breakfast.”

 

“You can make it again.”

 

“ _ Brat _ .” Slade reached down, swatted his butt, and Dick yelped, before he let go of Slade’s hand, smacked his chest. “Go sit down, I’ll have it to you in five minutes.”

 

Dick smiled, untangled himself from Slade and left him alone, heading for the living room. He flopped down on the couch, where he’d wait until Slade came out, bearing two plates. Where they’d sit, idly watch something on TV, while Dick buried his toes beneath Slade’s thighs.

 

Where they’d be at peace- where everything was  _ alright _ , was as it should be.

  
Where Dick would think that whatever had gotten into Slade to finally have him take this final step, he’d have to thank god for.


End file.
